I, Edgar Allan Poe, used to own a cat. His name was Pluto. I loved him so; except one night, a new alcoholic, I did an unforgiving act. Terribly drunk, I took out my pen-knife, and I gouged poor Pluto's eye out.
We never saw it before. He's not ours...
One morning, after Pluto's eye had already healed, I felt the spirit of perverseness. In uncontrollable sorrow I did wrong for wrongs sake only. Finishing my cruel act, I took a noose and hung Pluto from our tree.
That night though I woke up from a loud noise, realizing my house was burning to the ground. I and my wife rushed outside quickly, as the fire was already noticed by our neighbors. But even more of a horrible sight though, was the one wall left over from the burned fire. On there, was the silhouette of a giant black cat with a noose about its neck.
I went to the bar after the fire and met a cat. it didn't belong to anyone else, so it followed me home and domesticated itself immediately. But since I was always drunk, I hated the cat loving me and tripping me with its rubs around my legs.
My wife had stopped me from killing the new cat after it tripped me for the last time. But in my rage, I dug the axe right inside of her head. Instead of sorrow I buried her in a wall I had dug out, not realizing what I had also buried her with.
The new monstrous cat went "missing", and after approximately 4 days of my murderous act, including the missing cat, a search party of police came searching for my wife. overly confident of my hiding act, I kept talking about the walls and how they were so "sturdy". I was answered by a shriek in the walls. The police dug at it, and what came out was not only my bloody-headed dead wife, but a bloody mouthed hissing cat!