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Chapter 2 Cat Lady

I walked out the door, before she could say anything else to piss me off. Besides, I’d never walked around the neighborhood yet, I was curious. I lived by a nice residential area. It looked safe enough. The first house I walked up on looked very inviting. The porch had a lot of wind chimes. They were really pretty, and the wind was blowing just enough, making them all chime softly. 

I noticed a basket on the porch, and I heard kittens meowing inside. One peeked its head out, it was white, and irresistibly fluffy. Then an older lady came out, and sat down by the kittens, she gave them a bowl of milk.

While walking by, I saw the older lady get up and move the basket around, when she did, I saw a sign that said “Free Kittens” I couldn’t resist. I walked up to her porch. 

“Aw they’re so adorable.” I told her.

“Yes, they are.” she smiled.

“My name is Molly.” 

I introduced myself.

“Well nice to meet you.” 

She shook my hand and adjusted her glasses.

“I’m the cat lady.” 

She giggled, apparently it sounded funny to her too.

“Cat lady?” I repeated giggling.

I thought it was weird that she would call herself cat lady. Clearly, she had a lot of cats. I could see cats running around in her house. I saw at least six, so far from her oversized living room window.

“Yes, I started out with one, then two, and well the rest is a blur. Mostly strays, and some that were going to be put down, I rescued them. I love em all.”

“Wow that’s pretty awesome.” 

“I’m in my late sixties, and I’ve turned into the cat lady. I always thought I’d be traveling with my husband, but he left me, when I hit middle age, and not cute anymore.” she frowned.

“I’m sorry.” 

I felt bad, and strange that she was telling me her personal information.

“No don’t feel sorry for me honey, these kitties make me happy. I feel needed, and loved. I know some people in this dang neighborhood think I’m crazy. I don’t care what they think. I don’t even care if they call me the cat lady. 

As long as they don’t say mean things about me. Or worse, say I’m crazy. I’m a lot of things, but crazy, is definitely not one of them.  Some say I eat cat food, because I can’t afford people food. They say I drink milk out of a bowl. And I’ve also heard them say I speak cat.”

“Why would they say such awful mean things.” I demanded.

“I don’t know, they just don’t understand why I have so many gosh dang cats, so they make fun of me.” 

“I’m sorry your neighbors are Dicks.” 

“What honey?”

Her eyes squinted.

“Nothing I just said I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay, I’m more concerned about these poor kitties needing a home. My house is full. I’m sure none of these heffers around here will give them a home.” 

“Heffers?”

“That’s old school red neck talk, for what you youngins today might call bitches.”

“Ah okay.”

This old lady is cute as hell. Sadly, she might be crazy as hell too. I liked her though.