Rigo's Place

Stories about the trials and tribulations of Rigoletto.

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As you can see from my photograph I’m a cat, but not just any cat I’m Rigoletto the world’s greatest cat. I can’t tell my age, you wouldn’t believe it anyway. My very favorite food is olives, the jumbo kind with the little red worm stuffed inside just in case anyone should want to send me some. I live somewhere in the U.S.A., but I’m not allowed to say where. Dad be afraid the town get sued or we get thrown out.

Monday, August 21, 2006


It was one of the darkest days I could remember. Mom was in ballistic meltdown, Dad had spilled a pot of chicken broth all over the kitchen floor. We cats had never experienced such joy and happiness, wonderful chicken broth glistening on the kitchen floor for us kids to lap up. And the best was Mom hadn’t degreased it yet. Dad hates to degrease broth or anything else because, “that’s where all the flavor is.” Well all the flavor lay in a pool on the floor.

When Mom saw us kids run to the pool of chicken broth she became unhinged again. Get out of here she shouted at the thought of us tracking chicken broth over the carpet. The kitchen floor could be mopped but not the carpet, someone would die if that happened.

My brother and sisters departed the kitchen at full speed but I took up position in the hall to watch what would happen next. Poor Dad was beside himself he didn’t know how the pot could have slipped through his hands, he had just taken the chicken from the pot when the next thing he knew the pot was on the floor and a flood of greasy broth was pouring down the cabinet.

Get the microfiber mop and towels Mom cried. Microfiber is supposed to suck up everything up in its path well the microfiber mop and towels had never met Dad’s chicken grease before, but it did its best. Just before the micro mop and towels hit the floor Dad noticed me watching from the hall, quickly he grabbed a cat bowl and spooned some of the broth into the bowl for us kids to enjoy later. My Dad’s a wonderful guy; always thinking of us kids. I hoped Mom wouldn’t degrease it first and suck all the flavor from it.

We survived the disaster of the broth with the kitchen floor in better shape than before; I believe the chicken grease gave the floor a much better shine. Of course this isn’t the end of the story, the next day Mom reached in the lower cabinet to grab a pie plate and found it full of you know what. I hope this never happens to you, it could possibly wreck a happy home. Almost forgot, we got our bowl of chicken broth still full of flavor, Dad hid it from Mom.

Mom confessed that before she and Dad were married she reached in the frig for a lemon pie she’d made and dropped it up side down on the floor. Dad and me been wondering if anything like this ever happened to any of you folks, we sure would like to know your story.

God Bless,