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Poor pussy...
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03 June 2002
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Interesting. Very very interesting.
I went for my walk with Lucky~boy tonight, and I was barely a block from my home when I caught sight of this women peering through binoculars out across the vast expanse of the desert backyards near my house. Very strange.
When I go walking, I have my CD player strapped around my waist, and I am cruising to the tunes. (Tonight's tunes were sung by the maaaahhhvelous Josh Groban.) All of sudden, I see this lady waving me over. Great, I think. What am I getting myself into now? She began asking me if I had seen any strange cats around here lately. Eh? Aren't all cats strange? Just kidding! ;-)
Apparently this lady lost her cat last January. Yes, well over a year ago, and she is still out there looking for him. Awwwwww... (I have to admit that I would have given up LONG ago. I must not be as devoted to my pets. Or maybe it's the fact there are packs of coyotes running freely around here!) She went on to describe the strange ol' feline, and I told her that I hadn't seen it.
I thought that would be it and that I'd get to continue with my walk. Don't get me wrong, I'm not unsociable at all, but I tend to get my mind set on one thing and want to do it--now. She walked over to me and started telling me all about her cat. "He's a tabby, with very light, light, light grey fur, white paws, black lines down this side of his face, three down the other, and a big cyst on the back of his neck."
Errrr....
She continues on, "I know that he's been around because he's been spotted by So-and-so and This-person and That-person."
I'm listening to her, but as I've told her three or four times... I have not seen the cat. Ever.
She then decides to walk with me. She motions me to continue my walk. I do so, thankfully. She drones on and on about this cat and how old he is. I asked her just how old was old.
Seventeen or eighteen years old.
Uhhhhh... I mentioned to her that perhaps the reason that he's not been spotted for the last month was because...well...you know. Maybe he's gone. That's pretty old! She assures me that he didn't act old, just eight or nine years old. Okay.
She then told me, as I tried to continue walking, that her cat used to "speak to her" and that she hasn't heard from him in about a month. He's just stopped talking to her. She heard him, too, she assured me.
Mmm hmmm. Okay.
Finally, after I convinced her that I would, indeed, keep my eyes out for such a cat, she bid adieu and allowed me to continue my walk.
She was a friendly enough woman, and I'm sure that she misses her little kitty friend, but...but... The cat "speaks to her"? The desert is such an interesting place to be.
Tomorrow we put next year's classes together. We have cards that we have to fill out for each of the students. These are "for the teacher's eyes only" kind of cards. We put on there the important things that next year's teacher needs to know. For example, I might write, "Separate from So-and-so", or "Is bright but is inconsistent with homework," and things like that. There are also things to circle regarding Math, Reading, and Writing capabilities--such as "High, Average, Low".
The second-grade teachers have been warning us ALL frickin' year about the kids that we'll have next year. It was kind of teacher-humorous at first. Ha ha. After six months or more of it, it's just plain annoying. We get it. The whole grade, in general, is comprised of hard-to-handle students. Comprendo. Really.
I'm not afraid.
As with all years, I look forward to new challenges. I'm sure that my outlook will be different than their teachers this year.
Check back in September. Heheh.
9 school days left. Oh yeah, we are down to fingers!
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