"HERE KITTY, KITTY, KITTY!" she screeches from the deck of the pink house next door.
Yes ... it's true ... Little Pink Houses surround us.
I do not mind the pink but the collection of feral cats she tends drive us nuts.
They love sleeping on top of the car leaving fur plastered everywhere.
A blue towel's wrapped around her head ... she wears a yellow bath robe and pink bunny slippers.
She looks like Marge Simpson on meth.
"HERE KITTY, KITTY, KITTY!"
Hundreds of feral cats climb out of Palm Trees, jump fences, crawl out of trash cans, leave the gutters they're laying in and rush to the Cat Lady who feeds them.
Imagine a hoard of very fat Locusts converging in one spot at the same time.
"AW, KITTY, KITTY, KITTY!" she coos stooping to caress them.
"AW JESUS CHRIST," I mutter sitting on the Beloved Back Deck with Goddess and Winston, The Little Gay Dog, both of which are covering their heads with their paws.
Gypsy, the formerly gender confused cat, runs and hides under the bed.
In every life there are moments that force you to make a choice.
This is one.
Wish my neighbor a good morning?
Or sneak inside the house?
Winston, TLGD, makes the decision for us when the little Son-of-a-bitch ... and I mean that literally ... wearing a fluffy orange cardigan with white letters reading "Gay! It's in my designer genes!" ... jumps up and starts barking at a hundred feral cats.
Thankfully the cats are making so much noise moaning and meowing they don't notice so Goddess and I make our move ... darting inside with Gypsy and locking Winston, TLGD, outside with the Cat Lady and her Cats.
Everything's fine until Sarah strolls into the kitchen asking, "Where's my precious little boy?"
Goddess looks at me ... I look at Goddess ... the entire house is a giant pregnant pause.
"KITTY, KITTY, KITTY!" she screeches again.
Winston, TLGD, is shivering in fear outside.
Goddess decides it's the perfect time to take me for a walk ... just in the nick of time.
