Rabbit Box Blog

After Grandpa Charlie had been dead a number of years and all of the children had left home (or maybe Aunt Emily Jane was still there), Grandma Iva Lineberger had a cat that was about as cantankerous as a cat can be. She used to claim he cussed at her.

She insisted he could, and frequently did, cuss. She didn’t know where he had learned such language, because she never said a bad word, nor could she explain how he spoke English so well. We didn’t believe she meant it literally, of course.

While we were visiting one Sunday afternoon, the cat was outside. Grandma Iva opened the door to let him inside, and he walked angrily (we said he stomped) into her bedroom, jumped onto her bed, and “did his business” on her white bedspread. Then he jumped down and walked back into the living room where we were all sitting. All along the way, he said, very clearly “Damn! Damn! G**damn!”