Lapsed Cat-olic
"That time a priest gave my cat an exorcism when I was a kid," tweets Andre Alessi from Devonport. "So Mary was a solid black and white moggy, very placid, not that friendly. She was not, as far as I could tell, possessed by the Devil though. We lived in Hastings beside St John's College, and on the far side of the field was Little Sisters of the Poor, a geriatric hospital/home. Most of the residents were Catholic, and a few were priests or nuns ... So one day Mum was home pottering around when she saw someone walk up the driveway beside the house, rather than to the front door. So naturally she goes to see who it was. And standing in the door of the garage, close to the boot of her car, was a tall man in black. 'Hello, can I help you?' she asks.
"Before he replies, she noticed three things. First, this man is dressed as a priest, and other than his wild white hair, he's immaculately groomed. Second, our cat, Mary, is lying in the boot of the car, pressed down by the priest's hands. And third, the man is muttering prayers that sound like they're in Latin. The man doesn't turn to her, but from the corner of his mouth he says, quietly, 'Your cat's been hit by a car.' Mum looks at Mary, who is completely still. She doesn't look injured. 'I'm sorry?' says Mum. 'Your cat is dying, I'm praying for her soul.' (Okay so maybe it was the Last Rites but Mum's heard those at work and doesn't think so.) 'Um, maybe I can help, I'm a nurse?' says Mum. 'No, she needs the Holy Spirit,' says the priest.
"Eventually Mum talked him into coming inside with her for a cup of tea, and then called the geriatric home to come collect their man.
"Oh, yes, sorry, Father Patrick's harmless, but he thinks cats are evil,' says the orderly they send around, as he leads the priest away. From that day on, we had a different cat. She was grumpy and mean and confused. So maybe the priest was right, and Mum should've let him finish casting out the demon."
