Robert Gardner -- THE VERDICT

Whenever Gino Boero and I get together, we exchange Sam Oxarart stories.

The other day I bumped into Gino in a crowd.

There was no opportunity for a real exchange of Sam Oxarart stories so I

asked, “A quick one?”

Gino’s answer was, “the frozen cat.”

Sam was between marriages -- or between divorces. I was distressed at the

mess Sam was making of his matrimonial life, so I extracted a promise

that before he entered into the bonds of matrimony again, he would call

me first.

And so it was that I received a call at about 3 a.m. one morning from

Sam. There was quite a bit of noise in the background that I couldn’t

identify. Then came the voice of Sam.

“Bob? This is Sam. You remember that promise I made to call you before I

got married again?”

“Yes, but what is all that noise?”

“Slot machines. I’m calling from Las Vegas. I’m in a casino about to go

into a marriage chapel to get married.”

Given the circumstances, it seemed that a lecture was a waste of time, so

I said “good luck” and went back to bed.

Well, that marriage was no better than the rest, and after a few months,

it was over.

Sam felt lonely after that wife left, so he bought a cat. Sam and the cat

got along famously, then the cat died. Sam was overcome with grief, more

grief than I had detected over the departure of any of his wives.

However, he was faced with a tough decision -- what to do with the cat’s

remains. He was torn between burying the animal in his backyard or taking

it to one of those pet cemeteries.

We had several long conversations on the problem, but during this period

of uncertainty, something had to be done with the body of the cat. So Sam

simply put it in the freezer compartment of his refrigerator.

During the freezing process, the cat’s lips pulled back, leaving the

corpse with a perpetual frozen snarl on its face.

The debate between backyard burial and the pet cemetery continued. At one

time, Sam suggested that if I would preside over the ceremony in full

robe, he would choose the backyard option.

I demurred, pointing out that while judges could perform marriages, there

were no provisions for funerals -- particularly for animals.

In the meantime, Sam, finding himself between marriages, was pursuing a

number of sweet young things -- some not so sweet, and some not so young.

Unfortunately, some of these potential future Mrs. Sam Oxararts opened

the freezer compartment of his refrigerator in search of ice cubes and

came face to face with the frozen cat with the snarl on its face.

End of many a future Mrs. Sam Oxarart.

I never knew the actual final disposition of the cat. I know for sure he

took the frozen cat out of his freezer because he eventually got married

again.

I walk past Sam’s old house with some regularity. When I do, I think I

should advise the present occupants that if they dig in the backyard, not

to dig too deep.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and former judge. His

column runs Tuesdays.