My great-great-great grandfather, Howard Patton, was an ancient egypt fanatic. At nearly every auction that featured scarab amulets, hieroglyphic tablets, and or papyrus scrolls, he was there with his arm held high as he shelled out hundreds of dollars for these beloved treasures. Every penny that wasn’t spent feeding or clothing himself was spent on any ancient artifact that he could get his hands on. His particular fascination made him rather notorious amongst his friends in his hometown of Oshkosh.
One particular item that Howard had been coveting for quite some time was a mummified house cat that dated back to the year 178 B.C. The cat had belonged to a ferryman on the Nile river and, on an inscription on the linen it was wrapped in, the cat was praised for its loyalty and how well it had protected its master. A protective spell on the cat ensured that, if separated from its master, the cat would return to the river and wait for him there.
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However, once Howard got his hands on the creature, he claimed that he felt a sudden chill shoot through his fingers, only to settle as a stony lump in his throat. He tried to ignore it, dismissing the feeling as his rheumatism acting up again, yet the sickness only grew the longer he spent with the cat. As his carriage hobbled along the street and back to his home on the Fox River, he could feel the cat’s lifeless, unblinking eyes burning into him, even through the wooden box that the creature was kept in. He rushed inside his house, as it began to rain, and used his coat to cover the