Jack Daniels, the nearly blind cat who vanished from a San Francisco SPCA last year, miraculously reappeared on a New York City street this week. This is great news overall, but the downside is that he is now a dope addict.
“I got involved with some fucked up people,” said Jack Daniels the cat from his temporary new home in New York. “It’s a long way from San Fran to the Big Apple and along the way I got hooked on crystal meth and heroin. The SPCA is trying to get me in a treatment program but there is a lot of red tape.”
There was great sadness in San Francisco when Jack Daniels vanished — especially in the large homosexual cat community.
“I was beside myself with grief ,” said a sobbing Tom Collins, a gray Persian and Jack’s long time partner and an activist in the California gay cat community.
“I can see how he was able to make it across the country though because he knows how to hustle a buck. He’s pretty blind so he doesn’t have to see the cats he’s doing sex trade with. He knows how to John money out of older cats. I should know, shouldn’t I? He took my flea collar and all my Tender Vittles. He never paid rent or did any housework, but I love him something awful.”
When questioned further about his new drug problem and his exploits as he crossed the country, Jack Daniels was very candid.
“I started out by getting on the wrong bus in Oakland and the next think I knew I was in Vegas,” said Jack Daniels. “I had always smoked a little weed and all us cats in the bay area did recreational shit like EX and Special K, but Special K is supposed to be for cats so there really wasn’t anything really taboo about it. There was no rush or thrill.
“In Vegas I ran into some really down and out street cats and I got involved in all kinds of wild dudes. I traveled around with these guys and by the time I got to St. Louis and passed through all those truck stops I was floating. I hadn’t eaten in months because I was on the crack pipe too. Lucky for me that shit ran out because I had a $100 a day habit.
“I met some old and fat cat in East Saint Louis who I used for a while so I could have money and a place to sleep. I told him I loved him and that I was the son of Morris the cat from the Friskies commercials. Just to add to the show I pretended to be a finicky eater. He bought it, hook line and sinker — stupid sucker.”
Jack Daniels sounds like he has come back from the assumed dead a little hardened and a bit rough around around the edges.
“Look, guys, “Jack Daniels continued as he lit a cigarette. “You try going across the country nearly blind without getting into some heavy duty shit. Man, three cats in my gang overdosed and the rest of them have feline AIDS. I’m a survivor, dudes.”
Jack Daniels is currently in detox at an undisclosed Manhattan location although he did sneak out Monday night to go to a circuit party in an alley on west 34th street. He was found at 4am Tuesday sprawled on the top of a garbage can surrounded by little plastic zip lock bags and a few empty bottles of poppers. He tried to scamper away and managed to climb up a fire escape and into a fancy Broadway apartment.
“When he came into my window he was drunk and high,” said retired actress Helen Lawson, the owner of the apartment. “He called me Grandma and then he flushed my wig down the toilet. He said ‘Bye Bye Pussycat’ and hurled insults at me. I called the police. They drummed him right outta Broadway because Broadway doesn’t go for booze and dope.”
We at TheDamienZone.com know that cats like Jack are never really cured. They’re always waiting for their next fix and their next bottle of cheap wine. It doesn’t matter that he covered 3,000 miles. He did it because he was a doper and boozer and hopped up on speed and glue. Those kinds of cats don’t care what box car they jump onto — as long as they get to that next fix — that next high.
