Yesterday, as my wife and I walked down Alabama towards the languishing bearded tree, we were surprised to see Guido approach. He more typically is standoffish with us, but times aren’t normal in his household and maybe he longed for extra affection. The dark-striped tabby lives with Bruce and Little—and on another street. The first two cats, Little less frequently, often walked with their owner and her dog. The troupe was always a delightful sight, and I stopped to talk with the woman whenever possible (as a matter of privacy, neighbors’ names are purposely withheld).
I use past tense, because she let her beloved canine go to doggie heaven around Christmas, following a decline from old-age-related infirmities. The loss caused the tiger tabbies great distress—absence of their larger companion and dramatic change to their walking routine. I know that for a time she tried to continue the practice with the kitties alone. She may have stopped, but I will need to ask to confirm—whenever, if ever, the time feels right. The family’s loss is too soon now. BTW, she put out the Squirrel Italiano feeder that I wrote about 10 days ago.
