Episode transcript - “TO BE A FERAL CAT FEEDER”

ADAM RAYMONDA: Forgive Me! Season 3, Episode 7: To Be a Feral Cat Feeder.

[SFX: Crickets are chirping. A car passes. We hear the sound of approaching footsteps and the opening of a can.] 

SEBASTIAN: The first meal of the day comes with the rising sun and is always, without fail, the best one—a fresh can of tuna fish in oil ceremonially dumped onto a paper plate—that I am able to enjoy all by myself. Yes, of course, there are sometimes other lost souls waiting in the wings, hoping to fight over whatever scraps I leave them, but the intention behind the woman who leaves the can is clear. She’s fostered an undying love and devotion for me, going on three years now, and who could blame her? I am, as you could probably guess from the dulcet sound of my voice, magnificent.

[SFX: A can of tuna is poured onto a plate and now we begin to hear a few frantic meows of a cat, which turn into purrs as the plate is passed to him.]

GAYLE: (in a baby voice) Good morning, Sebastian! How are you doing on this fine day, beautiful?

[SFX: Gayle crouches down and scratches the back of Sebastian’s neck as he eats. His purrs continue.]

GAYLE: Such a hungry baby boy, aren’t you? I bet you just love me, bringing you your favorite breakfast. You know, this is the good stuff. You really aren’t a cheap date, did you know that? But I guess that’s alright, so long as we keep each other company.

[SFX: Gayle continues to coo at the cat, who pauses eating to take a swat at her.]

GAYLE: Hey, that really hurt! Someone’s feeling spicy this morning. Maybe tomorrow I’ll just have to bring you the kibble. You’d hate that, huh? Maybe then you’d finally learn your lesson and stop swatting at me so much.

[SFX: Sebastian hisses.]

GAYLE: Calm down! I’m only kidding. You know I’d never do that to you, my shining golden baby bumpkiss.

[SFX: Sebastian continues to eat again. After a moment, he purrs. Crickets continue to chirp and a car drives by.]

GAYLE: Now, I know we’ve talked about this before, but I really wish you’d consider giving moving in with me a shot. Hell, we even had a dry run last summer! And it went pretty well, all things considered. Although I’m sure we’d both rather forget the broken Hummel Incident. Well, the shattered family heirloom aside, it must be more comfortable than wherever you go off to, tomcatting around town all night. I’ve got catnip, I’ve got warm laundry for you to make your delicious little biscuits in, and I’ve even got a giant cat tree for you to climb! Lyle, my last cat, he just loved that thing. He’d spend all day curled up in a ball at the very top, just basking in the sun. I’ll bet, in time, you could learn to love it too. We might even have a chance to form a real bond, you know?

[SFX: Sebastian lets out a little meow as he finishes off his tuna.]

GAYLE: I’m not saying that you’ll be a replacement Lyle. I don’t expect you to sleep in my bed every night, or comfort me when I’m sad. I understand that you are your own cat, and I don’t expect you to change to meet me in the middle of my own expectations. There’ve been a lot of Lyles in my life frankly, a lot of Sebastians too, and I’ve loved each and every single one of them for all of their little idiosyncrasies. And I’m positive that I’d love yours better than any shed, or bush, or other strays you find yourself cozying up to ever would. I’m just saying: maybe think about it?

[SFX: Sebastian allows himself to be pet for another moment before running off.]

GAYLE: You know, a thank you might be nice, Sebastian!

[SFX: Another car passes by as Gayle collects herself, crumpling the paper plate, and pouring some kibble into a metal bowl for the rest of the colony. Eventually, she lets out a little disappointed sigh.]

GAYLE: And just like that, he’s gone again, off into the wind, on some wild and crazy adventure that I’ll never understand.

[SFX: The sound shifts back to the gentle pitter-patter of a cat crawling through the bushes. He comes to a busy intersection. Cars are driving by, fast.]

SEBASTIAN: The second meal of the day comes after a few hours of aimless wandering about town and is a bit harder to come by. Crossing a four-lane highway is certainly something my siblings Percy and Penny would never be caught dead trying, but me? I like to live my life on the edge. Something that Gayle just doesn’t understand. 

I mean, I do appreciate what she does for me. The consistency of our visits, truly. Lord knows there was a time before we met when breakfast wasn’t always such a sure thing. I was smaller then, being the runt of the litter, and a lot less road worn. So I couldn’t always hold my own in neighborhood scuffles if you catch my drift. A time I’ll carry with me forever, with more than one scar. So going to sleep every day knowing that I won’t be waking up hungry and scared? It’s a godsend, and one I wouldn’t experience if we hadn’t developed our wary truce.

Who knows? Maybe I should seriously consider her offer. Like she said, we’ve had a dry run, and whilst I hated some parts—the eerie silence after she went to bed that kept me forever on the edge of sleep, anxiously awaiting a predator that never came, or the musk of her perfume that just barely covered up the smell of her deceased previous companion, who still claimed this foreign territory he hadn’t inhabited in years—there’s no arguing that it had its perks. I may love my routine, making my way across town from one lonely, socially mal-adjusted misfit to the next, but an overstuffed couch cushion beats the cramped confines of somebody’s termite-infested porch ten times out of ten.

But what would I have, if I were to retire? Three square meals and a place to rest my head, sure, but also a dearth of adventure. My life would be that of a groundhog, caught in the neverending cycle of seeking out its own shadow, only to retire when the sun has failed them yet again. I would never begrudge my fellow feline brothers and sisters for seeking out a life of comfort, but I am willing to sacrifice a soft bed for the thrill of the open road. And so? When the time for meal number two comes: I cross the street.

[MUSIC: Thrilling action music plays over this next bit of sound design.]

[SFX: Cars swerve and honk their horns as Sebastian crosses the busy highway. Maybe there’s a light fender bender?]

[SFX: That sound gets further away as Sebastian travels to a burger joint. A bell dings as a car pulls up.]

DRIVE THRU WORKER: Welcome to Burger Bros, home of the Bro Burger, can I take your order?

[SFX: We don’t hear their order as Sebastian enters the back area, by the dumpsters, where three boys are intermittently coughing and laughing. Sebastian lets out a loud meow.]

CHET: No way dude, look who’s back!

TRAVIS: I swear this little guy knows our schedule. 

CHET: Yeah, I asked Randy the other day if he’s ever seen him, and he had no clue what I was talking about.

MITCHELL: Did you save one for him? I would have, but Jerrica was breathing down my neck about throwing everything away.

TRAVIS: Who do you think I am? Of course, I saved one for him. I couldn’t let my favorite little pussy down.

[SFX: The boys burst out laughing as Travis unwraps a plain fishbro sandwich and throws the bun back into the dumpster, putting it on the ground in front of Sebastian, who immediately begins to purr as he eats.]

TRAVIS: Yeah, that’s right, you like that, huh?

CHET: Are we even sure he should be having this thing?

MITCHELL: What do you mean? It’s fish, cats love to eat fish!

CHET: Yeah, but it’s fried fish. Isn’t that like, too much for their little tummies to handle?

MITCHELL: I don’t think he’d be coming back this often if he didn’t love it.

TRAVIS: Seriously. And I don’t see you bringing anything better for him, dumb ass!

CHET: I’m just saying, I hope we’re not making him shit his brains out immediately after we go inside.

MITCHELL: (laughing) That’s fair. I just about throw up any time I have to make one, let alone consider eating it.

[SFX: Travis pets Sebastian, who purrs again as he stops eating.]

CHET: Ew, dude, are you seriously touching that thing? You’ve got no clue where it’s been. It could have fleas or something!

TRAVIS: Not any more than your mom does.

CHET: Very funny.

MITCHELL: I’ve gotta be honest, I love this little dude as much as the next guy, but I’m with Chet on this one. My relationship to this guy is one where we admire each other from afar, and I think it suits us both just fine.

TRAVIS: Pfft, whatever works for you two dummies, me and this little guy have a bond that can’t be broken.

CHET: You keep telling yourself that, man. Cats? They’re not loyal to anybody. All you are is his food delivery guy, and if you were smart, you wouldn’t forget that.

MITCHELL: I don’t know man, I can’t trust something that trusts so easily, you know? Like, I’ve met your dog: she’s sweet and all, but if somebody was breaking in your house, stealing your xBox, she’d run right up to them and start licking their face.

TRAVIS: Yeah dude. With a cat? You’ve gotta earn their loyalty. But once you have? It’s unbreakable. People who say cats aren’t friendly just either haven’t met the right cat, or are too big of an asshole to be worthy of their love.

CHET: Cats are brutal. They take what they need from you and as soon as they’re done, they move on.

TRAVIS: (sighing) Nah, man. It’s not like that. And I’ll show you. Someday, this guy? He’ll be mine.

MITCHELL: I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you, isn’t your sister allergic to just about everything with fur?

TRAVIS: Ugh, yes. It’s the bane of my existence that the only pets we’ve ever had are lizards. You just can’t cuddle a beardy the same way you can a cat or a dog. You feel me?

CHET: No, you definitely can’t.

TRAVIS: But she graduates next year, and as soon as she does, as long as this little guy’s still coming around? He’s mine.

[SFX: A speaker crinkles as someone buzzes all three boys at once.]

DRIVE THRU WORKER: Would you assholes get back in here? We’ve got a bus!

[SFX: All three boys let out a groan of disappointment. Chet and Mitchell turn and open the back door, inside, we hear a fast food restaurant buzzing with activity.]

MITCHELL: C’mon, Travis, you coming?

TRAVIS: Yeah, just gimme one more second.

MITCHELL: He’ll be back the next time we’re here dude. And the time after that. He always is.

[SFX: Travis pets Sebastian for another moment before following them. The door closes and we lose the sound of the restaurant. Melancholy music begins to play.]

SEBASTIAN: The boy with the pizza face wasn’t entirely wrong—the danger that comes from meal two doesn’t only come from my trip across the street, harrowing though it may be. Eating such decadent and fatty fried foods is hell for my gastrointestinal tract, but alas, I’m a fool for love. So, when I can, I make the trip, diarrhea be dammed. And that other boy? The one with the kind eyes who is respectful enough to show his love for me from a distance? He was right. Even though it would be far smarter for the longevity of my young life to abandon this part of my routine, I’ll be back. I’m too addicted to the stuff not to.

[SFX: The music and the soundscape shift back to the sound of crickets and woods. Cars are nowhere to be found.]

SEBASTIAN: After all of that commotion, I find it’s best to take some time to myself to rest. But I, unfortunately, must make a pit stop on my way to one of my many places of calm rural comfort. For that Fishbro does indeed make a run through my guts like nobody’s business. I do make it a point to hold it just long enough so I can make it to my nemesis Clara’s home: a local musician with a fierce disdain for all those of the feline persuasion. She’s called Animal Control on more than a few of my beloved cousins, and so I relish in the way Travis’ Fishbro wreaks havoc on her petunias.

How miserable she would be if she knew that one of my favorite sleeping places was underneath her shed. But again: I like to live dangerously, and as they say--one must keep their friends close and their enemies closer. The near-constant threat of capture, of the kind of one-way trip that ends with that infinite sleep, would cause others to pause. But I take far too much enjoyment in witnessing her infinite frustration at finding my little gifts. Besides, it’s quite cozy down here, once you get past the overwhelming smell of old lawn clippings and gasoline.

But even my seemingly endless bravery has its limits, so the time for me to be on my way comes sooner than later. Because as soon as she’s home from wherever it is she spends her days away from my final destination, she’s a woman on a mission, and that mission is ridding her yard of whatever wildlife keeps ruining her award-winning petunias. And, I hate to say it, she isn’t above killing. Aside from her passion for the handbells, Clara comes from a long line of Irish wolfhound lovers. Her prized Gus is a five-year-old show dog who stands almost as tall as his owner herself, and one of his greatest talents comes from sniffing out my gifts and, in turn, me.

So, feeling rested from both my cool and cramped nap under Clara’s lawn care equipment and the gift I left in her flower bed, and terrified of my impending death in her hound’s jowls, I make my final trek of the day toward meal number three.

[SFX: Gus begins to bark ferociously at Sebastian as he makes his run for it. He lets out a howling meow, taunting him, as he makes his way up into the trees.]

[SFX: The Forgive Me! Theme music plays belatedly as Sebastian approaches St. Patrick’s. It is summer and the doors to the church are propped open. He enters just as the curtain to the confessional swings shut.]

FR. BEN: In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. How many days has it been since your last confession?

PAT: Three weeks.

FR. BEN: And what is it that brings you in today?

PAT: (deep sigh) Gayle…

FR. BEN: Gayle. What about her?

PAT: It’s just… I think she loves Sebastian more than me, and I don’t know what to do about it.

FR. BEN: Of course, it’s a very difficult feeling, realizing that we don’t necessarily hold the same place in someone’s heart that they hold in ours, but unfortunately, it’s also one that we can’t always control.

PAT: I mean, that’s not entirely true.

FR. BEN: Oh?

PAT: I could have him taken care of.

FR. BEN: (unnerved) Now, let’s take a step back for a minute and try to unpack what you’ve just said. It’s one thing to have… untoward thoughts about the objects of an ex-lover’s affection, but it’s another thing entirely to resort to violence against your fellow man.

PAT: (laughing heartily) Fellow man? Father, Sebastian isn’t a man! He isn’t a person at all.

FR. BEN: Okay…

PAT: He’s a cat.

FR. BEN: (chuckling, relived) Ahhh, okay. I see where you lost me there. But, while I may be more of a dog man myself, I still hesitate to condone violence against creatures of any kind.

PAT: You’re still mistaken, Father. When I said I could have Sebastian taken care of, I just meant that I could have him trapped and brought to the local shelter. Where he’ll be fed, and housed until a nice young family from the area adopts him.

FR. BEN: But if Gayle loves Sebastian so much, why would you want to take him away from her? Don’t you think that that might be a cruel thing to do to someone you love?

PAT: Not if it pries her away from his tiny, clawed grasp! You know, in the last three years that we’ve been dating, and she’s been out there feeding him, we haven’t been able to go on a single vacation? I haven’t been able to introduce her to my sister down in Ithaca. And she wasn’t even happy when I got us an all-expense-paid trip to Sandals, Jamaica! All she could do was ask: but what about Sebastian? As if a feral cat doesn’t have thirteen other people feeding him every day of his miserable little life. And look, I get how hard it is for some folks to take time off. Heck, I run a diner, so I’m used to working 7 days a week, 365 days a year, but refusing to give yourself a break because of your bond with a wild animal? It seems a little nuts to me.

FR. BEN: It’s okay for you to feel that way, but I sure hope that isn’t how you phrased it to her.

PAT: Of course not! I may be frustrated, but I’m not an idiot.

FR. BEN: I understand that sometimes it can be hard to love every single quirk that make up our loved ones, but if we want to keep them in our lives and appreciate them, we have to learn to accept those quirks, even if we don’t understand them. That being said, have you spoken with Gayle about how this is affecting you? Maybe if you tried meeting her halfway and offered to find someone to feed the cat while the two of you go away, she’d be more amenable to...

[SFX: Somewhere in the back of the church, Sebastian meows.]

PAT: (alert, interrupting him) Did you hear that?

FR. BEN: Hear what?

PAT: He’s here.

FR. BEN: (amused) Now, I think we might be letting our imaginations wander. I promise you, there isn’t a cat in St. Patrick’s. I’d certainly know if there was.

PAT: But how can you be so sure? Those doors were wide open when I got here!

FR. BEN: Well, yes, our air conditioner’s been a bit on the fritz, and if we don’t bring in a cross breeze, it can get a bit musty in here. But even so, I’m out here all day, I’d have seen the little bugger slip in.

PAT: (in a fuss, standing up) No, I’m sorry, Father, but that isn’t good enough for me. If he’s here listening, then he knows too much, and I have to get back to Gayle before he rats me out!

FR. BEN: Okay then… just try and remember what I said, huh? And, if at all possible, see if maybe you can find a common ground with this cat that is so clearly important to Gayle. If not to get yourselves on vacation, then to at least bring yourself closer to her.

PAT: Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, but I’ve got to go!

[SFX: Sebastian meows again as the curtains open and close. PAT rushes out.]

[MUSIC: Mischevious music plays as we follow Sebastian across the church and out the back door. Crossing one more quiet street to the Church rectory.]

SEBASTIAN: What a wonderful bit of serendipity! I must admit, this last stop always includes a bit of eavesdropping from the rafters, but rarely—if ever— am I treated to a confession so deliciously related to my own nine lives. There’s something juicy about hearing what someone thinks about you when they don’t know you’re listening. One might even call it downright illuminating. 

Now, some cats in my position, if they’d just heard what I did, might surrender to fear and move on from their sure thing. They might say that I’ve spent all this time worrying about cloying Clara sending me to the town’s only shelter, which is decidedly not of the no-kill variety, when egotistical PAT was right there spouting off the same threats. But Pat? He’s all piss, no vinegar if you catch my drift. Just as there have been other Lyles and Sebastians in Gayle’s lonely life, there have been other Pats. And there will be more still. And I, my friend, will outlast them all.

Do you know why? Because, while I am a ferociously feral, and idiosyncratically independent feline, I am also one of the most cunning charmers you’ll ever come across in your life. I may paddle my own canoe, as it were, but I know how to bring friends along for the ride, no matter how hard and nigh impenetrable their exterior may seem to be. Why, just take a look at my final feeder of the day for further proof...

[SFX: Sebastian pads himself up to the back porch of the rectory where Father Klem sits rocking in a chair and lighting a cigarette. Crickets are chirping again. Sebastian meows.]

FR. KLEM: Back again, are you? 

[SFX: Sebastian meows again.]

FR. KLEM: A more superstitious man might look at your regular arrival as an omen. Black cats are supposed to signify death, aren’t they? But I am not a superstitious man. No, I’ve spat in Death’s face two times now and come out on top twice again. Hell, I’ve begged that silly old Lord I no longer believe in to rid me of my boredom, with no such luck. So I’ll treat you as you really are: a hungry critter looking for his next meal. Same as me.

[SFX: Sebastian meows, more insistently this time. For longer.]

FR. KLEM: Calm your ass down! You’ll get what you came for, but allow an old man his pontification, won’t you? I don’t have half as many interesting sounding boards as you. You understand the value of silence when a man is unburdening himself. You get that not every little thing said warrants a response. And that, I’ve learned, is sometimes the true marker of a good companion. Not empathy, but silence. Allowing someone to vent their frustrations simply because it feels good, not because they need to (or even can) be fixed.

[SFX: Sebastian groans, swatting him.]

FR. KLEM: Alright, alright. Fine. You’ve heard enough out of me.

[SFX: Father Klem stands from his rocking chair and opens a can of cat food. Sebastian, rubbing himself against his legs, immediately begins to purr.]

FR. KLEM: Just don’t tell anybody you got this from me, kapeesh? I haven’t got enough of this for all your little friends. I’m not looking to adopt you all. You and me? We’ve got an understanding, but the second the rest of these vultures start showing up begging? That ends.

[SFX: Sebastian eats ravenously. Father Klem returns to his rocker and lights another cigarette. From far away, a door opens.]

FR. BEN: Klem! You home?

FR. KLEM: (quietly) Okay, pal, you know the deal—it’s time for you to hide under the porch so Benny Boy doesn’t catch you. I think you and I are both a bit too fond of our spare moments together to let him come in and try to white knight you into a life of domesticity.

[SFX: Sebastian meows again, but relents. Klem stamps out his cigarette and throws the both the ashtray and the empty can of cat food off the porch. Footsteps approach.]

FR. BEN: Here you are. You hungry?

FR. KLEM: Not for whatever you’re offering.

FR. BEN: Suit yourself.

[SFX: Ben turns away but stops. Sniffs the air.]

FR. BEN: Do I smell cat food?

FR. KLEM: (chuckling) You having a stroke, Benny Boy?

FR. BEN: (unconvinced) Maybe I’m crazy, but I could swear I smell fish.

FR. KLEM: No cats at St. Patrick’s. That’s for sure.

FR. BEN: Sure…

[SFX: He begins to walk away one more time.]

FR. BEN: That may not be cat food, but I certainly know that that was a cigarette you just threw out. Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life—

FR. KLEM: So don’t.

FR. BEN: (sighing) I can’t win.

FR. KLEM: No, you can’t.

[SFX: Their conversation fades as we return to the sound of rustling grass and crickets.]

SEBASTIAN: And thus returns the night, as all of my myriad feeders crawl into their disparate beds. Each and every one of them considering what their lives would be like, how much more enriched they’d be, if I’d just choose them. If I’d follow them inside, curl up at their feet, and show them what it means to be a companion. But, dear reader, how could one expect me to make a decision like that? What is life truly worth, if we stick to one lane and remove all of our other options?

No, the meals I seek tomorrow may not be guaranteed. They may not come from the same kindly feeders or even come at all for that matter. I could be lost to them all from any number of the dangers that the outside world poses to my kind. But each and every one of them will include its own sense of adventure. And would I really still be myself, if I chose to finally retire, and gave all that up? I certainly don’t think so. Which is why, right now, I plan to find a cozy place to catch a few hours of sleep until it’s time to start all over again.

[MUSIC: Forgive Me! end credits music begins to play.]

ADAM RAYMONDA: Forgive Me! is a Rogue Dialogue production. This episode was written and directed by Bob Raymonda and Jack Marone.

Here’s our cast in order of appearance: 
Karim Kronfli Sebastian
Emma Sherr-Ziarko Gayle
Bob Raymonda Drive Thru
Adam Raymonda Burger Bros Customer
Ian DePriest Travis
Jordan Kalina Chet
Sawyer Greene Mitchell
Casey Callaghan Father Ben
Graham Rowat Pat
Josh Rubino Father Klem

Script editing by Jordan Stillman.

Dialogue Editing by Bob Raymonda.

Sound design, score, and mixing by Adam Raymonda.

Additional background music from

All of the graphic design comes from Sam Twardy.

Season three of Forgive Me! Would not be the same without our Executive Producer Curtis Dibrell Jr.

Find out what we’re up to by following @forgivemeshow on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter

This season we’ve got a 13-episode Patreon-exclusive series called Confessions with Klem! Our Patrons will get a glance into the secrets of the St. Patrick’s community with everyone’s favorite witty nihilistic Priest.

In next week’s episode, we hear Travis come into the confessional to see what all the fuss is about:

TRAVIS: Are you saying you can’t help me?

FR. KLEM: Can’t? I never said that now. You just better strap in, because Benji and I are on two completely separate planets when it comes to giving advice.

TRAVIS: Okay…

FR. KLEM: Now, c’mon then. Out with it. What’s eating away so bad at your insides that you’d cross our holy threshold and prostrate yourself at the feet of this humble German priest?

TRAVIS: It’s just… There’s this girl I really like.

To get access to this Patreon-exclusive series as well as an ad-free version of our feed, become a supporting parishioner over at patreon.com/roguedialogue. That’s patreon.com/roguedialogue.

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That’s it for now! We’ll see you back here in two weeks for episode 8!