these hard economic times or this house is very large

Well the summer’s come to an end and now rain and the local animal shelters are filled to capacity.

I only had a cat once when I was young. It wandered onto the porch. Then wandered into the house. We fed it. I loved it. I think one day my mom found it dead in the basement. I shouldn’t say “it.” This cat had identity. He. We called him Benny for some reason, some particular reason now unknown to me. She told us he was hit by a car. Buried him in the backyard under the tire swing under the big walnut tree in the very back corner.

Before that, years before, I had a dog. It my mind he looks like one of those long-haired, black and white sheep-herding dogs of some kind. But I think he was really all mixed up. He was good, we were friends. But he liked to escape the yard and bite people. After my mom had to pick him up from the pound a couple of times, she took him in to stay. I don’t think she made up any stories about this. Maybe I was too young to argue.

My mom’s youngest sister, the youngest of 5 girls had a dog as a child. The dog died. They told her he was sent off to be a seeing-eyed dog for blind kids. She believed this until she was well into her adult years.

The Dearborn animal shelter is housing cats in trailers out back because it is overfilled. A cat you can leave home alone. But I wonder, how would I like a cat, and how would the cat like me?