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Dear Diary,

Harold ran over the cat in the driveway again this morning. I’ve warned the stubborn fool that repetitive murder just won’t fly with Colonel Dandy Whiskers. I even tried using Steinbeck on him—that quote about war being a symptom of man’s failure as a thinking animal—but it hasn’t slowed him down.

Of course, being a typical husband, Harold has tried blaming me for all of this. Although completely ridiculous, that is just what the Colonel predicted he would do. Yes, I will concede I am the one who bought the house. But the papers were signed before the two of us even met, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. The price per square foot was too good to pass up. Trust me, you can’t touch anything, other than a sad little lot in a trailer park, for that kind of money these days.

In defense of the selling family, they did disclose the foundation rested squarely atop a Schrödinger anomaly. It didn’t bother me at the time, not one teensy little bit. My pets had died left and right as a child—Mother said I loved too aggressively— so I saw the feature as a perk, not a problem.

The most interesting thing about the anomaly or, more appropriately, about my beloved Dandy Whiskers is not that he comes back after each incident. Oh, no. It’s the knowledge he brings back with him. The first time, he scratched an odd little picture in the litter box. Thanks to the Internet, I managed to match it with Anhur, an Egyptian god of war. The second time, it was the phrase “Cattle die/kinsmen die/all men are mortal,” spelled out flawlessly in Viking runes. The third, it was a particularly venomous passage from Sun Tzu’s Art of War.

You must understand, it both irks and saddens me at this point, the knowledge that Harold is still so casual about the degree of kitty wrath he has been courting. The idiot is intent on seeing himself as some flabby suburban Beowulf and the Colonel as a half-witted Grendel he is destined to overcome.

I fear this shall end badly for all of us…

(The Schrödinger Anomaly©2015 Jennifer Fales)