Jack wrote this in October, 2006:
A few days ago I was messing around out front (trimming the tree those guys said they were going to come back about, prior to the yesterday visit).
A pickup truck pulled to a stop and an elderly Hispanic lady rolled down the window on the passenger side, stared past me, squinted, pointed at something up near the house, and said something to the driver. By now she had my full attention.
“I want to get my cat back.” Pointing to one of the cats on my porch.
I looked over my shoulder, mistook which cat she was talking about, but she corrected me. “No that one.”
“That’s not your cat.”
“Yes it is. It only ran away a week ago.”
Well, I happened to know this cat has been around a long time, but what the hell. Cats are metaphysical beings. I moseyed up to the porch, talked to the feline in question, picked her up and cradled her upsidedownkitty style. “That woman accuses you of having two homes. She’s going to take you to the other one now.”
I stood on this side of the gate, she on the other, maybe three feet apart, she, eyeing the feline. “This your cat?”
Well, I knew this particular cat is a female. But what the hell. Cats are metaphysical beings.
“She says you went through a sex change without telling me.” I lift the cat, still upside down cradled above the fence and the lady reaches up to take him/her.
At the point the cat decided the gag had gone a bit far, did what cats do. Probably an experience the lady’s still thinking on.
“Does that cat have shots?”
Dancing lessons from God, I calls such experiences. A way to get acquainted with the neighbors.