The Statue of Beelzebub
This story is about something that happened to my mother quite a while back. I only learned of it recently.
One of our kind and wonderful neighbors happened to have a small, one-foot statue of Beelzebub on their front porch. (As you may or may not know, Beelzebub is apparently the "King of Demons" or something. I don’t know if that means he is the devil or not, but that’s not the point here). Anyway, we have a pet cat that we like to keep indoors, but one day the cat got outside, so my mom decided to go after it and try to catch it. She succeeded, and was standing on the front lawn of the neighbors with their statue on the front porch. She was holding the cat in a way that the cat could not scratch her with any of its claws, but when she turned and looked straight into the eyes of the statue, she felt both of the cat's front paws claw deep into both of her cheeks—even though she still was holding the cat in submission. My mom said she felt like her cheeks were on fire, and that blood must have been flowing in gallons from her wounds. But when she went inside to check her wounds in the mirror, her cheeks had not even a scratch on them. This brought my mom to tears when she was telling me the story, because it was a very scary experience for her, and from then on, she steered clear of the neighbors AND their statue.
