2013-09-10

ehowton: (Default)

It was one of those hot, Summer weekends a couple of weeks after school starts and the neighborhood children were squeezing the last bit of fun from the sun playing in the streets with one another. I had just backed the car into the garage and exited the vehicle when Marko greeted me on the driveway. I lifted him up and placed him on my shoulder - his favorite perch. Three of the kids riding their scooters in the street rode into the driveway, one of them asking, "Is that your cat?" Another asking, "What's his name?" I told them this was Marko Ramius, and yes he was my cat.

Then they took turns telling me stories of his exploits:

"Sometimes he comes to my house."
"Those kids over there think he's stupid."
"He spends time on their porch over there."
"Where does he go at night?"
"Do you leave your garage open for him?"
"Does he ever get lonely?"
"Some kids told me some other kids hit him once."
"My dog chased him one time."
"One time he chased my dog!"

I was surprised how long they spent telling me stories about Marko. I suppose he really does get around.
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