William S. Burroughs: The Cat Inside

 

  Wedenesday morning, May 1. I received Ruski's desperate call for help, the sad, frightened voice I first heard a month ago.
  MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY.
  And I know where he is. I call the Humane Society.
  " No, we have no cat of that description."
  "Are you sure?"
  "Wait, let me check again..." (Cries of frightened animals.)
  "Well, yes, we do have a cat of that description."
  "I'll be right there."
  "Well, you have to go to the city clerk with your certificate for rabies vaccination and pay a ten-dollar pickup fee."
  All this accomplished in half an hour with the aid of David Ohle. We arrive at the animal shelter. The place is a death camp, haunted by the plaintive, despairing cries of lost cats waiting to be put sleep.
  "That is one scared cat!" the girl says as she leads me to "Holding," as it is called. Frozen with fear, Ruski cowers with another terrified cat on a steel shelf. She unlocks the door. I reach in and gently lift my cat into his box.
  We have to wait fifteen minutes for the arresting officer before the cat can be released. He is out front when I come back with Ruski in the box. He is a young, blond police punk, skinny, with a scraggly mustache. Not even a policeman, quite. I ask him the circumstances of Ruski's arrest. He doesn't know. His partner made the collar. His partner's off today. The police shutter falls across his scrawny face.
  "It's illegal to allow your cat to run free. Dogs and cats must be on the owner's premises and under verbal command at all times. It's the law." (A law habitually violated by everyone in Lawrence who has a yard.)
  After seventy-two hours in Holding, the animals are put up for adoption. The animals know. Animals always know death when they see it. Better put your best paw forward. It's your last chance, Kitty.
  What chance would Ruski have, a full-grown, unneutered cat paralyzed with fear? One scared cat.
  "Oh, Daddy, I want that one!" Little boy points to Ruski.
  "Well, we wouldn't advise...he's not very responsive."
  "Guess we'll pass on that one, Punky."
  Ruski gives a meow of despair as they walk on.