Sour Puss Read Free

hanging on by her claws.
    “Dear God,” she sighed.
    “Little pagans,” Herb whispered, which made Fair laugh.
    With heroic effort, Mrs. Murphy hoisted herself up onto the balcony railing. Pewter shot off the railing, hit the organist’s bench with all fours, endured a reprimand from Mildred and a yap from Tucker as she leapt onto the keys, which produced a mass of discordant notes throughout lovely St. Luke’s Lutheran Church.
    She then soared off the organ as Mrs. Murphy, in hot pursuit, gained on her. Up to the last row of the balcony, down to the exit, thundering down the carpeted stairs, Pewter skidded across the highly polished vestibule floor, knocking over the lectern with the red leather visitor’s book opened. The book hit the floor. Mrs. Murphy left a few claw marks as she scrambled over the book. Pewter then turned a ninety-degree angle, bolting down the center aisle of the church.
    BoomBoom reached out to grab her, but Pewter eluded the bejeweled hand, as did Mrs. Murphy. The two crazed felines headed straight for the nuptial pair.
    Tucker had sense enough not to stop either cat. She watched with fascination, as did Mildred.
    “You’re a good doggy,” Mildred crooned between her laughs.
    “Yes, I am.”
    “I will kill you. I will kill you on Harry’s wedding day!”
Mrs. Murphy shouted.
    “Gotta catch me first.”
Pewter, realizing she was the center of attention, was loving the limelight, quite oblivious to the discipline that might follow.
    Herb bravely continued, and as he was pronouncing Fair and Harry husband and wife he rolled his eyes skyward, imploring the Lord not only to bless those two humans but to bless the two cats in quite a different way.
    Pewter ducked under Harry’s train. Mrs. Murphy wiggled right under. Pewter then emerged from the back of Harry’s train with such force that Fair held on to her as Herb ended the ceremony with “. . . that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen.”
    Before Fair kissed his bride, they both watched Pewter land on the altar. She crouched behind the large gold cross. Mrs. Murphy landed on the altar, as well, the two towering floral displays on either side of the cross swaying unpredictably. The cats fought each other on either side of the cross.
    Fair whispered, “Honey, let me kiss you before they wreck the place.”
    He kissed her and she kissed back, and when they broke the kiss, they just laughed until the tears came to their eyes. By now everyone was mesmerized, and it was dawning on Pewter that as much as she adored all these eyes upon her there might be hell to pay.
    “She started it!”
Pewter bellowed.
    “I did not, you fat fat water rat!”
Mrs. Murphy aimed a precise blow across the top of the cross.
    Rushing in from the back to the side of the altar were Herb’s cats, Elocution, Cazenovia, and Lucy Fur.
    “What are you doing?”
Cazenovia called to the warring kitties.
    “You’d better stop or there will be blue murder,”
Lucy Fur, a sensible type, admonished.
    “I’ll kill her for sure!”
Mrs. Murphy, livid, agreed to the murder rap.
    The three church cats positioned themselves in front of the altar.
    Elocution very sweetly pleaded,
“If you don’t stop, Poppy will get awfully upset. Come on.”
She loved Herb.
    Mrs. Murphy, her back to the congregation, turned to look down at the three cats. Then she looked at all the people. She’d forgotten about them.
    “Holy shit!”
She leapt down.
    “See, not only did she start it, she’s a blasphemer.”
Pewter rejoiced in this moment.
    With three strides of his long legs, Fair walked up and scooped Mrs. Murphy, ears flat against her head, into his arms.
    “Pewter, you get out from behind the cross,” Fair commanded.
    Harry lifted her train, joining her husband. “Pewter, come on now. We’ll forgive you if you come off the altar. Remember, forgiveness is Christian.”
    “Do it.”
Cazenovia added to Harry’s plea.
    Pewter slunk out from behind the