Dear Lad,° The other day, a cool and pleasant morning barely into the 80’s, I went calling for Panama, to give her a snack. (“Her,“ although ever since you distracted her so that I could briefly peer aft, I have had little doubt why she hasn‘t come in heat these last six months.) She came running from behind Bouvier Hall the moment she heard my foodpromising voice.
° What a lovefest, for I hadn’t stroked her in two weeks.
° She followed me into Assumption‘s garden, I spread kitty numnums on the brick sidewalk, then settled onto a teak bench to read the Statesnamean. Chockful of chipmunk, Panama ate a few bites to please me, then flopped full length onto the warming bricks for a nap.
° I hadn’t gotten past Doonesbury, banished to the editorial page by the brownshirts a decade ago, before we were joined by Lena. Panama glanced at her, then dozed on.
° Lena, forty looking thirty, was dressed very conservatively, I noticed, and really only her stilettos, her redbleached jerricurled hair, and mauve and skyblue twotoned eyeshadow could’ve given the faintest clue as to her profession. She sat in the bench adjoining, smiled her toothless smile--actually, only the top four front teeth and two of the lowers are out, but the general impression is of toothlessness.
° “Are you a member here?” she asked. She had forgotten our previous encounter.
° “O, do you live nearby then?” She had forgotten that too.
° “So you live up to Overton?” Wrong again.
° “Is that your cat? I love cats. I just might take me some big black cat home with me,” she purred in Panama’s general direction. Though Lena was looking at me--I mean looking deep into my eyes, then south, then back into the eyes again, very competently done I may say--when she said it.
° I was a little alarmed. For Panama’s sake.
° But what did Panama do, la brava?
° She roused, sniffed the air, smelt something fishy perhaps, and began to junglecat stride toward Lena. I felt jealous.
° But you know what?
° The minute Panama got five feet away from her, Lena suddenly overcame her love of big black cats, leapt to her feet, and blurted out,
° “Well I reckon I be off now.” And so she did be, alla breve.
° Panama purred, unless it was a soft growl, then stretched fulllength on the snoozy, warming brick, curled her toes, dozed and dreamed.
° Pleasant dreams, Giac.
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