“CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING????!!!!” A crazed voice
bellows out of an open window. The house is in a severe state of dilapidation. Paint
peeling off decade’s old whitish siding. Tangled weeds growing in mighty
clumps. A purple cat box filled with water smashes down green thistles on the unkempt lawn. Cats cower on the cluttered porch, hunkered down and wary. Black
cats. Grey cats. Tabby cats. Cats and cats and cats. Somedays, when I walk by,
there are just a couple of cats. Other days, there seem to be dozens of cats.
And because of these cats, this is where the trouble
started. As I walked by, I did the cluck cluck cluck cat call noise. Of course,
the cats being feral and wild, instead of coming up to me, scurried away,
hiding under the ancient grey pickup truck parked in the driveway. I guess the
cat lady, behind the scary torn curtain, heard me—hence her demand.
I didn’t answer her, but stood for a moment, transfixed.
It was in this moment that she let out her tirade of
venom. “STOP SCARING AWAY MY CATS!!!!” I shook my head, starting to walk on. No
way did I scare away the cats. They were terrified to begin with. And who could
blame them? Living with a bellowing Crazy Cat Lady?
But she wasn’t finished. “GET OFF MY PROPERTY!!!! BITCH!!!”
Wow, well, I never! And, I started to laugh to myself, just a little. I hadn’t
been on her property in any way, shape or form. Unless the sound of my voice
carried over the property lines? And I was the bitch? Ummm…methinks the pot
calls the kettle black? Is that how the saying goes?
I hurry on, turn the corner at McBryde and think, damn.
People are crazy! With this shelter in place, they’re just going bonkers all
holed up in their homes binge watching Netflix’s Tiger King.
Yet a part of me thinks, too, that someone like her is
probably crazy all the time. That this pandemic shelter in place we’re in may
not be changing her life much anyway. She probably sits in the house watching Judge Judy reruns all day, hollering at
anyone who passes by. Tossing kibble out the window to starving cats who scurry
to gobble it up before running back to hide.
I turn down 30th street, marching past the
headless angel statue in the front yard and think to myself, when will this all
end? When can our lives go back to ‘normal’? When will people see each other on
the sidewalk walking, and instead of crossing the street and eyeing each other
like the plague, we’ll stop and chat. Pet the dogs. Share rapture over sunsets.
When will I be able to swim again instead of all this goddamn
walking, which don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I can do it, but it’s just not the
same as swimming.
I head across Esmond, passing by the orange house with
rap music blaring out an open window.
A tabby cat head pokes out from behind the curtain. I
stop. Do I dare?
“Cluck cluck cluck….hi pretty tabby….”
The cat grins. Honestly he does and I do too as I continue
down the street humming a little tune.
Thea and I pass a cat house on one of our walking routes. Sweet and sad at the same time. I'd like to swim too. Seems all I do is read Facebook and eat popcorn.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading, Laurie. Yes, this is a sad situation, I think. I feel sorry for all the cats. But maybe they're fine. The Crazy Cat Lady, on the other hand, is NOT! Facebook and popcorn. That sounds like a good combo. But I bet you're riding your bike, walking and jogging too. Writing?
ReplyDeleteThose of us who live alone, sometimes do crazy stuff. The empty house echoes the footsteps of one person. This is enough to make one crazy...
ReplyDeleteThis kind of existence can't be imagined by those who have a partner in the home...
Yes, I suppose. Who knows if she was alone though? There could have been someone/s in the house too. All I heard was her bellowing voice and it was scary! Anyway, I do live alone, but I've done this by choice which I know is very different from your situation, RJJ. I wish you had some company! Maybe soon this pandemic and shelter in place will let up and you can get a new fur friend! Thanks again for reading!
ReplyDelete