The Milton Harvest Festival parade was on the 18th of September this past year. I had watched my share of the parade, gorged on Gunzey sausages, and made my rounds of the festivities. It's hard not to. The festivities take place on the street in front of my home.
My phone rings and I see that Angie Witter is calling me. "Hi Ang. What's up?"
"Can I drop something off at your apartment?"
"Sure."
I figured that she had watched the parade with her uber-son Trace and needed to stow folding chairs or blankets. Not so. She comes up the steps bearing a furry present - a cat. Angie explains how the "poor little thing was lost and wandering on the parade route" and was sure to get squashed by a fire engine. "You would like a cat, wouldn't you Kurt?"
I tried to explain that I really didn't need a pet running around the apartment. I even got Tracer on my side when I suggested that the cat would be better off staying with her two dogs and several cats. Ang quickly turned that argument, explaining that her hubby Tim would wig if she brought home another pet. Trace attempted his best fists on hips, I'm not leaving unless we take the cat with us, Superman pose, complete with protruding lower lip. Angie (I thought at the time) wavered and asked if I would watch the cat long enough for her to go get her kitty carrier. (Had I been thinking quicker, I would have realized this for a scam. She managed to carry the cat to my apartment and she only lives five minutes from downtown. Why would she need a cat carrier?)
Just in case the cat belonged to someone downtown, I took a picture of the cat (with Trace) and floated a lost cat poster around the neighborhood. No one ever claimed the cat and Angie hasn't stopped back in the past nine months with a cat carrier. Hmm?
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