On really hot days I fantasize about a washer and dryer inside the house instead of in the garage. That's also what I fantasize about on really cold days. On earthquake days, I am happy they are in the garage. Anyway, it never fails that when I am in the garage doing laundry and shvitzing and half dressed or freezing and wearing mismatched layers of clothes for warmth, my husband will drive in and open the garage door. The other day, it was a shvitzing and half dressed laundry day. But as luck would have it, as my husband was futzing around in the garage, the next door neighbor came out. This is the neighbor whose pet is Apocalypse, the black cat who has been pooping and coughing up fur balls in our yard for the last 13 years. Lately in her old age, she has gotten feisty and her lethal claws and fangs have left us bloody. By her, I mean the cat not the neighbor. I decided this was our chance to be visible since every time I knock on her door she never answers. And by our chance I mean I told my husband to go ask her what the deal is with her cat. He has a way better way with strange women than I do-he appears visible to them. The neighbor explained that Apocalypse is not really her cat. It was a stray the previous owner of her house (like 15 years ago) had and when she bought the house she felt bad for the cat and just kept feeding it and letting it stay in her yard. I was in the garage listening and trying not to jump out and say well if you've been feeding it for 15 years and it lives with you, it's yours. I was still stuck on her saying it belonged to the previous owner. Oh for the love of Buddha, man! My husband explained to her that the cat spends a lot of time in our yard and has vicious claws and fangs and he was wondering about it. She agreed and went inside. I'm still standing in the garage holding my wet skorts trying to figure out at what year I would've taken the stray cat in my yard to the vet when my husband steps back in the garage and says IT'S MOOPHIE! The dog I found in our backyard was now in our front yard with a new woman who lives with our neighbor, Apocalypse's non-owner. Moophie was not leashed and peeing all over our grass. The mystery woman was just wandering to the mailbox. This is very odd because I went to their house trying to find out if Moophie was theirs and they did not respond. I decided it belonged to a different neighbor and left a note on their door telling them I had Moophie and to come get him/her/it. I left Moophie secured in our yard when I went to an appointment and when I returned, the dog was gone. I figured the owners came and got it. I suddenly did not care that I was half-dressed and made myself visible to Moophie's owner. I pretty much said what the fuck, yo?! Your dog was in our yard, I searched high and low for you and the number on its tag is disconnected! I spent a day trying to find where Moophie lived! She was just all um wool I didn't know. Really?! Really?! I am not talking about a teenager, either. She is probably 55. Moophie peed on our flower bed one more time and they went inside. Also, Moophie and its owner have the exact same teeth. That is not really an important part of the story but important because it is funny how pets and their owners totally do look alike.
Making ourselves visible to the neighbors with the cat who belongs to a person who hasn't lived in her house for 15 years has made no difference in my life other than I am even more annoyed than before. It was better when I thought she was just a bad pet owner. Now, I have entered The Twilight Zone of pets.
*Don't worry, we provide a place for Apocalypse to sleep, food and water when her non-owner is not around. And, she bites and scratches. Remember that when I suddenly get cat scratch fever and am delirious.