Today, as I walked through Pikes Place Market I had a sudden urge to cook for myself.  I knew I’d have the house to myself tonight so I bought four Bay scallops the size of my palm, a bundle of fresh mint and two deliciously ripe in season peaches.  After I got home I set up the table so I could dine and then work. 

I sautéed scallops in fresh peaches and mint, with a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.  I was feeling particularly proud of myself for getting a lot of work done, fixing a decadent meal and starting to get my feet back into the writing groove.  I was fully prepared to spend the whole night feeling girly with candles and research.

At about ten I fixed a cup of tea, and lit the end of my sage wand.  I went through the house and let sage smoke fill the corners – cleanse and protect.  At twenty after I sat down and started writing. 

The cats seemed agitated.  Zoey, the smaller female, prowled the window near my head.  Louie, the older male jumped on my lap while I was working and scared me so bad I yelped and he bolted away. 

Half an hour later there was a knock at the door.  I was afraid to open it as I’d just saged the whole house and it smelled a lot like pot. 

It was the neighbor, Peter.

“I have some very bad news.  Your cat is dead.  I think it was hit by a car.”

Immediately, I flashed back to the frustration of my last week in this house.  Right after moving in and having the horde of men in my bathroom problem, Houseguy, the guy who’s in charge of the house gets a job and decides to visit the East coast for a month before he has to work.  He is in fact the owner of the two cats.  He asks Talldarkhotguy to feed the cats while he’s away and bolts leaving only his cell number and the vet number on the fridge. 

The cats are primarily outside cats and they come and go through the open windows.  I’m not typically a cat person, and although I’ve told Zoey and Louie that “I’m not a cat person!” They’ve still insisted on sitting on me, sleeping in my bed and tripping me in the kitchen.  I frequently remind them of the chats where I say, “I’m not a cat person, thank you for your fur, but no thank you.  Coffee and fur do not go well together.”  But they’ve refused to listen, and despite my resistance, I’ve come to sort of like them.  Which is why I fed them and watered them all this week, believing Talldarkhotguy must have forgotten.

I had no small amount of irritation at Houseguy for dumping his cats on us and running away.  In fact I thought it was very uncool.

Back to the neighbor, Peter.

I was so shocked I’m sure I said stupid things like.  “I just moved in.” “These aren’t my cats.” “I’m not a cat person.” And other assorted heartless bitch things to say in moments of shock.

He took me to where the body lay, and sure enough, it was Louie.  He was hit by a car.

I had no idea what to do.  Houseguy is in Pittsburg with a three hour difference.  The emergency vet would be of no use and I was alone.  In an unfamiliar area, with someone else’s animals and home.

Peter is a gentle, quiet man who lives next door.  He lent me a shovel and wrapped Louie in a towel.  

To be continued…