> So are we sure this is a sign of affection?  We aren't just seeing what
> we want to see?

I have to admit, you're right.

I once had a Sicilian cat, Guillermo, who left a sardine on a piece of
newspaper at my bedroom door, just after one of my other cats, Mr. Ruffles,
went missing.  I was all like, "Awwww, isn't that sweet," and just pet
Guillermo and went on about my business.

Things went along just fine for a while, then one day Guillermo and Sadie
started hissing and pawing each other over who got to play with the mouse
squeezy toy.  I separated them.  In the morning Sadie was found dead with a
broken neck.  I lump of tuna wrapped in newspaper was at the entrance to the
kitchen.  I thought one of the kids was just messy and dropped it there
while making lunch.

In the corner, Guillermo cleared his throat a few times, as if dislodging a
hair ball.  Then he just nonchalantly licked his paws and stretched out in
the sun for a nap.

One day, my wife brought home some snacks from the store for the kids for
lunch, one of which was CornNuts, my favorite at the time.  I kinda yelled
out "CornNuts, oh!" and for some reason Guillermo jumped on me and started
clawing my face.  He almost scratched my eyes out.

I explained his behavior to the vet, Ernesto Benedetto, also a Sicilian.
When I got to the part about the CornNuts, he realized what was happening:

1) Guillermo was indeed responsible for the contract killings of both Mr.
Ruffles and Sadie.

2) Guillermo understood only the Sicilian dialect of Italian.

3) "Cornuto" is a very specific Sicilian word that is the one thing you
never *ever* call a Sicilian.  It basically means that his wife is a whore
and he is a cuckolded idiot without a clue.

This explained a lot.

I did some checking around, and it turned out that Guillermo was a "made
cat," and couldn't be touched without permission.  I reported him to the
FBI, who it turns out had a sting operation in place on Guillermo for
nineteen months and was just about to pounce.  They told me to just be
patient.

Three days later, the FBI bursts through my front door with an arrest
warrant.  They turned Guillermo, and he's now in the Federal Witness
Protection Program under an assumed name.  I was told that I might have to
testify.

I don't know where Guillermo is today, but I wish he were here, back home.
I know he caused his share of problems, but he acted out of honor, and I
can't really fault that in the end.

Next time a cat leaves a gift for me, I'll know to read the message being
sent.

And I won't make waves.

Respectfully,

Adam Phillip Churvis 
President
Productivity Enhancement


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