Happy 99th Birthday Colonel J.
Jensen leaned forward in his rocker holding his metal cane in his hand. He studied the big orange cat perched on top of the sign reading Fern Landing Personal Care Villa. He aimed his cane at the cat and shot, pulling off three rounds.
“Kapow! Kapow! Kapow! There’s some lead to rain on your ass, baby bird-eating bastard! Like those three Nazi officers I capped way back when. Ha!”
The cat looked at him with indifference and licked his paws. After a moment it crouched and crept towards the small dogwood near the sign.
A woman dressed in a navy blue uniform hurried onto the front porch.
“Are you shooting at that kitty cat again Colonel?” She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Damn right, Fucking bloodthirsty Garfield out there will eat the baby birds from the nest in that tree.”
“Well, isn’t that kind of the way of nature, sir. The strong eat the weak. Like the food chain. Yes, remember that National Geographic show on T.V. the other day? Maybe a big dog could come along and devour that cat, you never know.”
“If you say so Dildo, eh I mean Donna.” He shook his head and aimed the cane back at the cat.
“You must come inside if you’re going to make a racket out here. We can’t have you disturbing the peace.” She leaned forward and looked in his eyes.
“Besides, this is a very special day, you don’t want to ruin it do you?”
“I have no idea what day it is, except today.” He poked her on the thigh with the cane.
“Don’t much care either unless its the day you move your ass out of my way so I can shoot at the pussy out there.”
He sat up on the edge of his chair. Donna sighed and leaned against the porch rail.
“Look Colonel Jensen I know you want to be outside, but we’ve prepared snacks and cake in celebration of this big event. The other residents are looking forward to celebrating with you. And so are the staff.” She crossed her arms.
“You’re right I’d rather be out here! The air in there smells like death. The air out here smells like life, except for those baby birds Himmler there is killing.
“Mr. Barnwell has been talking about your birthday party all morning. He’s excited for you.”
“Barnwell? I thought he died last week when he choked on a corn dog some idiot in the kitchen didn’t cut up into pieces for him.” He aimed again at the cat.
“Yes he did choke, but he did not die.” She crossed her arms.
“People die here all the time. Some of them are dead, and your staff’s too busy Fart-Booking to notice.”
“Okay have it your way. I will have Rodney and Giselle escort you inside so we can have your party.” She walked toward the door and stopped.
“Today is your birthday you know, 99 years. I don’t understand why you don’t want to have some fun with your community Colonel Jensen?” She walked back inside.
”Who cares? It’s just another day in paradise.” He saw the cat next to the tree where the nest was. Pink blooms tinged brown around the edges had fallen on the ground. An adult sparrow dove at the cat and landed at the top of the Dogwood, chattering, and then flitted from one branch to another. A young sparrow poked its head out of the nest and hopped on the ground. The cat pounced and trapped the bird in its claws.
Jensen whacked his cane on the floor trying to make as much noise as possible.
“No dammit. Don’t eat the bird you dumb ass cat. Go eat a mouse or some other vermin! Shit!
He aimed the cane at the cat and screamed, “Kapow! Kapow! Kapow!” The cat looked his way for a second, and then buried its fangs into the throat of the baby sparrow.
A large man and a young woman in sky blue uniforms wearing plastic gloves stepped onto the front porch. The man snatched the cane from Jensen, and they both put an arm under his shoulder lifting him out of the rocker.
“Do something. That cat’s eating another bird.”
“Come on now Colonel J. we’ve got cake and punch in here,” said Giselle. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a syringe in her free hand.
“We gonna’ play bingo too,” said Rodney. They lifted him up to a transporting position with Colonel Jensen still facing the front of the facility.
“If you keep this up, we’ll have to give you a shot, and then you’ll miss your party.”
He could still see the cat. It looked in his direction. A bloody fluff of feathers hung from the corner of its mouth. Jensen flipped his left middle finger up at him.
“I’m giving the bird-killer the bird. He’s a Gestapo cat, probably even Hitler reincarnated.” He pointed his right finger and pulled the trigger.
“Gotcha’ bastard.”
Giselle pulled the waistband on his pajamas down to expose his hip and poked the syringe into Jensen.
“That felt good. How about another one on the other side of my ass.”
She capped the needle and put it back in her pocket. They began to transport him inside.
Rodney said, “Donna told me for us to take him down the side hallway and not through the day room where the other residents are.
“Well damn, that’s twice as far we have to haul his ass.”
Jensen looked at Giselle.
“First you play with my ass. Then I hear you talk about my ass Giselle. You must have a crush on me.’
She shrugged her shoulders and kept moving him.
”We’ll save you some cake and punch Colonel J.”
