The assasinated gato

This is the second part in my series of the Draculitos and Arturo.

The last few weeks have brought 3 kittens into our lives at the Coca-Cola warehouse. They showed up out of nowhere one day and a couple of the guys started leaving scraps of food out for them by the parking lot in back. The cats have gotten bigger (as kittens are known to do) and eventually one of the ladies even bought them a small house to keep warm in because of the ensuing cold. One day last week I got to work very early and walked inside and started my normal routine of work. A few hours passed before Arturo approached me. He said that the Draculitos were in need of blood and had killed one of the cats ( his spanish words were, Los Draculitos estavan con hambre y assiniaram el gato). I was a bit confused and thought he was kidding so I didn't think much of it. A few minutes later another co-worker appeared and said that one of the cats had been killed in the parking lot. I didn't know quite what to think, I hadn't grown particularly close to any of the cats, but I thought it was strange. About five minutes after this my boss came up and told me he had pulled in and seen the dead gato on the pavement too. News was certainly moving fast. Maybe the Draculitos were really out for blood and Arturo had been right. When I walked in that morning I had seen no dead gato's on the road and the Draculitos always got to work after I did. Well, being on the low end of the totem poll at work, I found Arturo recruiting me to help him pick up the remains of the cat. He drove his forklift out with a garbage bin and I had a shovel. Sure enough when we got outside I saw the assassinated gato. The entrails were sprawled out next to the flat body and a bird was picking at them. (I said assassinated because gatos are usually quite agile and this one had been hit by a car, I suspected foul play, but unfortunately no proof was ever found.) I moved into position with the shovel and had to turn away while Arturo pushed the gato with a broom, I seriously almost yacked all over when I felt the weight of the gato in the shovel. I tried to do a no look lift into the garbage can and missed . . . . the gato smacked back onto the ground. Arturo chuckled and made fun of my weak stomach. Much to his chagrin I found my mark on the second toss and the gato was out of sight. Perhaps the Draculitos had struck again, I am not sure how the gato died other than it was hit by a car, but I do think something must have happened to impede the gato from moving. When will the Draculitos strike again?

Just as I wrote that last part down I remembered a story that happened about two days after the gato incident. I was sitting in the break room with Arturo and Lupe. I looked on top of the Coke machine and saw a bottle of Fruit Punch Powerade. I inquired of Arturo if it was his, to which he sheepishly replied, "es la sangre para los draculitos" (it's the blood for the Draculas). I couldn't stop laughing for the next 5 minutes. This guy seriously has me convinced that there are Draculas at my work and they have taken the form of two half-Samoan kids.