I still wasn’t sure how Annie had some how transformed into this tiny girly version of Annie Jr.   It was much preferred to dead Annie, or fat dead Annie, or saggy skin braids, callous eating maggoty  dead Annie, or skeleton Annie.

I just didn’t know what to make of it, Annie was smaller, kitten like, but she really looked a lot like Annie did when she was a kitten.   Annie had looked like a little bunny rabbit and she now had that same bunny rabbit look; short fat and big feet.  Annie Jr was sort of long and slender.

The markings were different and she had more black but her eyes looked like Annie.   The voice was Annie’s.   She laughed the same crazy laugh, she drank her sludge, she played on the internet, watched AnnieTV, hung out with Duh-Wayne, she was just smaller.

How did she do it? How did she die and come back? How did she gain 600 pounds?  She was a cat for god sakes, cat’s can’t gain 600 pounds but mine did I saw it.   I saw that saggy skin, we still had an entire room full of hatched maggots; when I shooed them out the window unbeknown to me Duh-Wayne was standing on his stilts outside and ushering them into an open window a couple rooms down; he ‘always wanted to be a bee keeper’ and Annie suggested he practice with flies first.  It inspired Annie Jr. Halloween costume, he was a fly sticker and grandfather was a fly swatter.   Halloween Themes were so popular.

I finally decided to let it be.   ‘It is what it is,’ I thought.   Sometimes it was easier that way.  I couldn’t really explain Annie period.   I mean most people didn’t have cats who talked and drove cars, owned a multi-billion dollar poop factories, and no one but me even felt any of that was weird, so why not hop aboard Annie’s crazy train and let it go.

But I still wondered because although this kitten sounded like Annie, and acted like Annie there was a part of her that was off, like she began watching Little House all over again.  That in itself was not odd, she watched the entire series of hundreds of her favorite shows at least once a week.   What was weird was that she would act like she hadn’t seen it before.   It was her ‘favorite’ show however she claimed but she couldn’t remember it.    Sometimes she would recall with vivid detail some episode, but other times she claimed she’d never watched it before, to her  it was brand new.   She would dig her claws in my arm at the scary parts, she always did that but she would use all four paws.   She’d act surprised when something turned out completely different, but the biggest thing was she didn’t announce what was going to happen before it happened, she always started jigging and do-see-do-ing a good thirty seconds before Papa had his chin resting on polished wood of his fiddle/

As a matter of fact there were several things that Annie acted like; ‘it was brand new.’    Sometimes she would look at the dog with a crazed look in her eye and scream, ‘Who are You????”   She referred to Annie Jr. as her brother son and but he called her sister mom and Norbert was his brother uncle nephew and he claimed to be his own grandpa, then the banjo would appear.

Sometimes; something would snap and Annie would be playing along on her own stringed instrument other times, she would cock her head and lean her head towards the sound of the banjo, slowly smile and tap her foot, then scream, “I love it what do you call that jig-a-ma-bog.”   Then Annie Jr would correct her saying, “It’s  jig-a-ma-thingy lil sissy.”  Strangely he called her Mom-mom when she was acting herself.

The most logical explanation was, she was either faking it, or it was her multiple personality.   Annie Jr. claimed it was because Annie had not eaten all the soul of the test tube kitten, he and Annie made at Slamma Aunt Loosewheel’s house.   Of course, I wasn’t believing any of that, her time machine; bah and why a test tube kitten, when she was able to just clone herself.

That wasn’t the only thing, when she acted more like herself she was constantly complaining that her legs were too short and she was unable to work the gas pedal on her car, or her favorite pair of footed pajama’s that made her look like a cow complete with an udder bag was suddenly too big, or she needed a ladder to reach the top of the washing machine so she could ride on it when it spun out.

Other times, she was completely comfortable with her size, claiming she had no clue how to drive a car, and wanted no part of being a black and white cow because those were ugly colors if one had to be a cow for whatever crazy reason, brown and white was preferred and why would anyone want to ride a washer.   There was a perfectly good fun park in the back yard with all sorts of rides.

Annie hadn’t used it in years, however she and Annie Jr. had been spending hours out there riding on all the rides while Duh-Wayne ran behind laughing and running the rides for them.   As a matter of fact, Duh-Wayne enjoyed the carney life so much he and Spam had parked an old 60’s model camper out there.   Spam spent her days washing clothes in a sink so she could hang them out in front of her home on a natty old piece of rope and making candy apples.   I would be glad when the snow fell so the sound of the calliope would  end.   It was very annoying.

What was annoying as well was Annie’s mood change.   She was changing her clothes a hundred times a day, true she always changed her clothes several times a day but now it was doubled.    Most of it had to do with Annie’s sloppiness;  her choice was to continue wearing a shirt covered with mouse tails and fish sauce, or a pair of pants she sharted in ‘accidently’ or a pair of slacks with a  torn out crotch she got attempting to leap over a gate to answer the phone and catching her foot in it, then screaming at the top of her lungs ‘get the phone’; she did this at least once a week.   In those cases I made her change.

But now she was changing out of perfectly good clean clothes that moments before she was dying to wear; into something else.  She was trading in her favorite Walking Dead hoodie for a gingham dress, or  a pair of shabby bibbed overhauls, or her favorite, an old feed bag  ’cause no matter how hard a person has it, my family had it harder.’   Before the feed bag had even settled on her hips she was screaming, “I hate  the Slamma Aunt Loosewheels poverty collection!” Then put on something else.

I wondered aloud what my mother’s clothing style had to do with any of this.  “You know Slamma Aunt Loosewheels was poor growing up, Slam,” Annie screamed at me.   “She was darn lucky to even had that feed bag she wore every day to school when she was a teenager and people laughed at her.”

The second the sentence was out of her mouth she began to sob, “I want my Slamma Aunt Loosewheels and my Aunt Dorky.   I hate living with you!” she spat at me.

Annie Jr. ran over and put his paw around Annie and pulled her close and said, “Don’t cry little sissy, I will have Mom-mom take us to see them.   I love Slamma Aunt Loosewheels too.   She hugs me and calls me Mr. Cutie.   Aunt Dorky calls me George though and she is kinda weird especially when she gets out Mr. Thermometer.”

The tears would stop and Annie would laugh her crazy laugh.   “I love Aunt Dorky!” she would scream.   “Me and Slamma Aunt Loosewheel’s chase her with old bird feathers.”

“You don’t even know them,” I yelled.   “They have been gone for years.”

“Where?” Annie screamed and began to cry, then her voice changed just slightly and she screamed, “Where?”     Then, she did something very strange, she put her paw around herself and patted her back and said, “It’s okay Cara-lyle.”   She patted herself back and said, “Thanks Mom-mom.”

“Who is Cara-Lyle?” I yelled.   This was getting weird.

“The test tube kitten,”   Annie said.   “Slamma Aunt Loosewheel’s named her, she said she looks like a Cara-lyle.”

“Annie, I don’t understand any of this!”  I cried, yanking gobs of my hair out in frustration.

“It’s simple Slam, Me and Annie Jr. went back in time when Slamma Aunt Loosewheels and her sister Aunt Dorky were teenagers, we made a test tube kitten, Slamma Aunt Loosewheels named Cara-lyle and I possessed her and here we are.”   She paused and looked around, then walked underneath Annie Jr. lifting Annie Jr. backside up in the air.  She laughed her crazy laugh, then screamed.   “DUH-WAYNE!”

Duh-Wayne came running from his trailer in the back yard, Spam right behind him both dressed in straw hats and bibbed overhauls, each had an old bucket.   “Milking time?” Duh-Wayne asked.

“We are hired hands,” Spam said to me.   “Your mother hired us.”

I shook my head and closed my eyes.   “Say cheese Slam,” Annie screamed.  I opened my eyes and mouth at the same time.  “Ha ha good one Slam, wait til your mom sees this, she will think twice before she has kids. ”

They all jumped into the cardboard time machine that I swore did not work and I left the room.   ‘So much for riding along on the Annie Crazy train,’ I thought as I plopped into my recliner.  “Cara-lyle!” I said aloud.  “Possessed! Blah.   I am off this crazy train.”  I put my feet up and cracked a can of Moose Made.



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