When I was a teenager we used to take the same route to school every day. On our way we were still sleepy and it was colder, most of the time I did not even realize what was going on around me. But I was eager to observe the neighborhood cats on our way back.
My parent's house was in a middle class neighborhood. Tree lined streets, small houses with a decen front porch and a small garden. Most of our neighbors had one or two cats. Some of them were allowed in the house, others had to stay outside.
The house at the corner belonged to Mrs Abercrombie, a widow in her 60's. She had a very plain front porch with no chairs, plants or flowers. Her white house was what we later called minimalist. She was not into decoration. Her cat was a large black cat, we just called him "the black cat". He was not afraid of humans, he would look at us and wouldn't move an inch. He did not like to be touched.
The second house was always empty, it became a no man territory with wild plants growing everywhere. A couple of times we jumped the fence to find nothing but trash and dusty old stuff. Once we found the body of a dead cat, a ginger tabby was rotting in the back yard. We had never seen him before.
Our neighbors next door were Mr and Mrs Dawson. They had two cats, a male and a female, both tabbies and skittish cats. We could look at them for a few seconds before they run into the house through an open window. They would often stare at us from behind the blinds.
My parent's house was in a middle class neighborhood. Tree lined streets, small houses with a decen front porch and a small garden. Most of our neighbors had one or two cats. Some of them were allowed in the house, others had to stay outside.
The house at the corner belonged to Mrs Abercrombie, a widow in her 60's. She had a very plain front porch with no chairs, plants or flowers. Her white house was what we later called minimalist. She was not into decoration. Her cat was a large black cat, we just called him "the black cat". He was not afraid of humans, he would look at us and wouldn't move an inch. He did not like to be touched.
The second house was always empty, it became a no man territory with wild plants growing everywhere. A couple of times we jumped the fence to find nothing but trash and dusty old stuff. Once we found the body of a dead cat, a ginger tabby was rotting in the back yard. We had never seen him before.
Our neighbors next door were Mr and Mrs Dawson. They had two cats, a male and a female, both tabbies and skittish cats. We could look at them for a few seconds before they run into the house through an open window. They would often stare at us from behind the blinds.
My favorite was a Persian cat. He belonged to Mr Crown, a retired gentleman who had been a diplomat. He was a distinguished old man, always dressed in fancy clothes. He had gray hair and glasses. His cat was a gorgeous cream Persian cat with orange eyes. Every time I passed by Mr Crown's living room windows I would look to see if his cat was taking a nap by the window. One day Mr Crown invited us in to meet his cat. It was a special moment, touching that silky coat with those orange eyes looking at me.
While growing up that was my favorite moment of the day, on my way back home. A true cat walk.
While growing up that was my favorite moment of the day, on my way back home. A true cat walk.
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