The Cat-skull Lamp

Years ago - perhaps a decade ago now - I stayed home from work to recover from a cold. I still lived with my parents; dad was outside doing some kind of yard work and mom was at work. I had just gotten back in bed after making a cup of hot tea and checking on my brother when I was surprised to hear my mom come home.

Usually, she'd stay at work for lunch.

I was doubly confused when she excitedly told me to get shoes on and come out to the car. I sluggishly got back out of bed, threw on a sweatshirt over my t-shirt, and slipped on some shoes before hopping in mom's car. She wouldn't tell me much as she began driving, just that she'd stopped by a yard sale before work and saw some things she thought I'd be very interested in. I hoped so - I just wanted to rest.

When we arrived, the first thing I noticed besides the yard sale signs was piles and piles of spooky Halloween decor. However, we were soon crushed to learn that most of it had been purchased by a school teacher who would be back to collect the items in the evening.

I was envious.

The man selling the items had actually made most of the items himself; he always enjoyed creating and decorating for Halloween. He was selling only because his age and health wouldn't allow him to keep up with such a collection anymore.

Among the items already sold, there was a working - but childproofed - guillotine! It was fully functional, but he had incorporated safety features to prevent any mishaps with children.

Though we wound up with crosses he'd made himself from metal pipes and rods (perhaps I'll create a post later that features them), I think he felt bad that we'd missed out on so much. Presumably mom had mentioned my loving Halloween and being ill when she'd stopped by that morning. I was idling like a zombie, my head feeling like it was going to burst with the sinus pressure I had.

Suddenly, though, he stood up straighter with an obvious idea.

"Hey, come with me! I forgot all about this lamp I've got in the garage! I think you'll like it," he stated as he began walking over to his garage.

We followed, curious. First my mom followed him in, and then I followed her. It was as the man reached behind me, shutting the door and throwing us into sudden darkness, that I felt a chill go up my spine. I couldn't help thinking about every true crime documentary I'd ever seen.

'Oh this was a bright idea,' I thought, 'Is this all it takes to get us in a dark room with a random guy?'

I was tense for a few, long seconds, but then...

The garage filled with an orange glow. A golden candelabra, outfitted with orange bulbs. And in the center of the prongs, the broken skull of a cat. It was beautiful, and haunting - especially as the man expertly shrouded the cracked skull with fake spider-webbing. All fears I'd been having about walking into the dark garage vanished; I was taken in by the sightless sockets in the orange glow.

Eventually we returned outside to daylight, where the man told us the origin of the cat-skull lamp. Admittedly, it's nothing too crazy.

He explained that he discovered some skeletal remains of a cat when he'd gone up to check his roof for damage and to clean out the gutters. The skull had been in pieces, and he never found some - including the lower half of one fang. He'd glued what he could back together in this piece.

We were happy to pay the $10 he asked for the ghastly item.

Since I moved in with my partner years ago, the lamp has set as a sentinel above my office desk, only brought down for special occasions, especially on Halloween. But it is never far from mind.

Our house is full of critters - 4 of them cats. One in particular is the most rotten of them all; Catfish...

...and every time Catfish is being a little too rotten - like chasing our eldest cat, Penny - I mock-threaten her with a promise reminiscent of the Boogeyman for human children:

"I'm gonna turn you into a cat-skull lamp if you keep that up, ya rotten little thing!"

So far, she remains unfazed by the empty threats. If anything, she usually purrs, chitters, and rubs up on me in response. She is "my" kitten, after all. She knows I wouldn't turn her into a lamp.

I mean, just look at that rotten little face...

The cat-skull lamp has been a welcome, macabre addition to my home for years now, and I can't wait to dig it out again this year after 3 long years of holding off celebrating Halloween due to COVID-19!

I wish I could recall the name of the guy who made and sold it.