On becoming the Cat Lady

Ever wonder why the Cat Lady smoked? Here’s a letter I wrote to Michele while I was traveling in my wagon from Canada to Mexico with my mule Polly.

My mule Polly and the wagon she pulled across America.

Good morning Michele,

This evening a Tom cat climbed into my wagon while I was out and pissed on my bed. Now my wagon smells like the Cat Lady’s house down the road. You know the lady down the street from where you grew up. The one that never had a light on during Halloween and when you went by to sell Girl Scout cookies you caught a wiff of her abode and thought, “Dang, don’t ever let me turn into that person.” Her house smelled of pee and smoke.

Now I know why. Well, now I know why it smelled of smoke. The cat pee I figured out…

So tonight I get back to settle in for a cozy night aboard the sea vessel to be confronted by this age hold horror of a stink. But seeing how my wagon is my home on the road and the closest Motel 6 is 100 miles away, I did what the Cat Lady did.

I shut my doors tight, pulled the curtains – and light my pipe. To hide the smell of Tom Cat’s squirt.

So now I’m choking on smoke and cat pee and the neighborhood kids are saying what you and I said about the Cat Lady. That her house reeked and she had a phlemy cough from all those cigarettes she smoked.

Yep, I’ve become the Cat Lady. And I’m gonna kick that cat’s ass in the morning when I catch it lifting a leg on Polly’s blanket – which I just remember I have hanging on the fence….

Sure hope you had a better evening and a better day.

Love and thoughts of pure Carolina air. My apologies to the Cat Lady for those early evil thoughts.




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