Do you have a cat?
July 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
Otis is like a cat. The moment I crack open the tuna can, he’s at my side. I squeeze the juice into his bowl and he laps it up leaving a sparkling dog bowl behind. Well, sparkling for a dog food bowl.
Anytime I think of Otis or cat in the same sentence I’m reminded of what has become an inside, weird joke between me and Jeremy. On occasion, I or Jer will say Do you have a cat? in a really weird voice. I’ll try to explain it here, but I’m not sure it will translate AT ALL. You have to let your mind go to a really strange, warped space, imagine an ordinary day you’ve experienced when things suddenly became a bit bizarro world for you and only you get it.
Early on when we first moved to this neighborhood, we were out for a walk with Otis when we passed two older women sitting in their pajamas on their front stoop. Both women were wearing cat eyeglasses like from the 50’s or 60’s or whenever they were the thing to wear. The stoop they were sitting on belongs to a dilapidated house with a large dumpster on the side in the driveway (the kind used during construction). Very Grey Gardens. It appeared as though they were mother-daughter or possibly sisters. As we passed their house, they complimented our gorgeous dog Otis and continued talking about what a pretty and big dog he is. Then, out of nowhere one of the ladies asked “Do you have a cat?” And, not that Do you have a cat? is the strangest question in the world, but if you could have heard how she said it. So innocent, like a child. So very sincere. So extremely curious if we had a cat. An old woman, with the voice of a little girl. In an instant I looked at Jer, he looked at me and we acknowledged without words how odd the whole set up was while Otis sniffed a bush. What adds to the strangeness is we’ve lived here three years and we’ve never seen them again. Almost like it didn’t really happen or they were ghosts or something. The house is still there with the dumpster by its side. Things about the house change (though not for better), someone must come and go, though we’ve never seen anyone. It pretty much appears deserted.
We had another moment once like this in the city. Again on a walk. We passed this big, beautiful old brick house and there were two really small women dressed in red jumpsuits. They were really small, reminded me of oompaloompas but their bodies were proportionate. They were doing something to the huge pine tree perched in front of the house. Jer and I looked at each other, acknowledged the strangeness of it and never saw them again. Both of these weird incidents were/are located on our regular paths, so it really makes no sense that we never saw either again. Well, now the story is getting boring. You should have seen the red jumpsuits. Really out of this world.