Cat of Dog Acres
We had cats.
Some by choice, some by accident.
We called our yellow kitten, Gilmore.
He was supposed to grow into a big golden
lion like Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia.
Instead, Gilly grew into a small female
with litters twice a year in the wardrobe.
Calico kittens are hard to find homes for.
Cat lovers know Calicoes are always female.
Smokey is born in a woodpile under our
deck when we are camping in Yosemite.
His Mother is a stray and moves her feral
kittens away one by one .
Smokey crawls far under the logs and adopts us.
He is always a little wild and constantly hides.
He climbs in open car windows.
A visiting relative drives all the way to the airport
before he discovers Smokey in the back seat.
My cousin drives Smokey back to us nearly
missing his flight.
I wake up to sounds of angry pounding on my door.
A man stands on the porch holding a gray cat and says
“Your cat ran in front of my car,
I took him to an animal hospital.
You owe me eighty bucks for x-rays.”
The cat leaps from his arms and runs down the hall.
I write the Good Samaritan a check.
The next morning two identical
gray cats came out from under my bed.
It was a case of mistaken identity.
Smokey had been home all evening,
We got an eighty dollar cat called X-Ray by accident.