Preparation H

update: This is a post about cats. I like very few cats. I have no allergic reaction to their hair or dander, I have a reaction to their holier-than-thou, have-a-look-at-this-well-groomed-ass-I-licked-it-myself’ attitude.

For my shorter runs, I usually head up Narrows and over to the waterfront or Colonial. That stretch of Narrows is very pretty. Think of the big houses, some with good sized yards and attached garages, that you’d find upstate. A $225,000 house in the southern end of Johnstown would easily cost $950,000 if you plopped it on one of the Bay Ridge plots. In this section, quite a few of the houses are built up on small hills. This is either so you can squeeze a two-car garage/basement under your house or so that you can look down on the little people that you look down upon. Holding back these hills of earth, you have long stone or brick walls that line the sidewalks. Back in the early spring, I started to notice a group of cats that were always hanging around a block up from the gingerbread house (pics here). I always see them around sunset. They either sit on the wall, the sidewalk just below the wall or the lawn above. I usually see two but occasionally I’ll see three or more. The most I’d ever seen at one time was six.

At some point in the summer I noticed a trap set out where the cats like to hang. Part of me hopes that they were catching these cats, having them fixed and then returning them so that they could be reunited. But then another part of me thinks that if I was the homeowner and six mystery cats appeared on my lawn every evening, I’d be a little creeped out. And then there’s the bigger part of me that thinks that it’s a freakin’ cat and it DOESN’T CARE. Doesn’t care about you, doesn’t care about his fellow ‘brother-cats.’ Hell, I’ll bet he doesn’t even care whether he’s sitting on that damn wall or not.

You know why I said ‘most cats?’ Cause I’m gonna drop the sentimental bomb on you now. Lara’s cat Pompii (that’s him- the grey one sitting on his… man-purse, I guess) passed away over the summer. Not only was he smart, but he was a kind soul. *I* miss him (and that’s saying a lot). RIP, Pompino.