November 26, 2017 – Ice blue eyes

        I wasn’t expecting it.  My husband moved my car Wednesday morning to make room for our Thanksgiving guests the next day.  My husband moved the pickup truck down to the garden, and re-parked my car where the truck normally is and then my husband stayed parked where he normally parks. It was good thinking on his part.

        I wasn’t expecting it.  I spoke with the florist who was verifying my location for delivery of flowers.  I told her to come to the front door.  Later, the doorbell rang and I went to the front door and no one was there so I walked out the front door and down the front walk and circled around to the back door chasing the florist down, “You-who,”  I called.  I caught up with the delivery gal about two steps from my back door.  I took the flowers and walked back around to the front door. [They say it is bad luck to go out one door and come in another . . . maybe I am superstitious.]

        On Wednesday, I cooked and set the table and got the house ready.  Thursday, I finalized the cooking, and sat and chatted with guests and then cleaned up the dishes, and pots and pans.  My car was parked for two days. On Friday, by early afternoon I finally put my shopping list in order and went out to my car.  It didn’t start - I wasn’t expecting that!

        “Oh My.”  I said and went in to get help from my husband.

My husband unsuccessfully tried to “jump it”.  He then took me shopping and when we came back home I called AAA and told them my problem – or do we call that my issue.   Actually, I’d coin it a “crisis”.    I hate being without my own wheels.  I also don’t like the strange routes my husband takes to the post office or the store.  I swear it is the longest way in the world to get there.  It has to be the woman vs. man thing.

        AAA was friendly and efficient.  They get my high points for “customer service” any day. Within 30 minutes, someone would come to see if they could start my car. I wasn’t expecting it so quick on Black Friday. 

Only a few minutes later, the AAA mechanic person phoned and said,

“I’m at ‘such and such church’ that is what I got when I punched in your address.”

“The development is across the street, I’m the third driveway on the left, white house, black shutters, green front door.” I answered.

“I’ll be right there.”

I hardly had time to get on my sweater and shoes by the time he pulled into the driveway.

“Who’s that?”  My husband asked.

“AAA mechanic,”

“That was quick.”

Out the door I went and met the mechanic.  He was carrying a jump box – at least that is what I would call it – but I am a novice when it comes to things of this nature.

He popped the hood and clamped his machine on the battery and it did it’s magic.  I climbed in and cranked the car – it started - I wasn’t expecting it.  I honestly expected it was going to be an alternator or something that would cost me a fortune because my battery was only a year or so old and shouldn’t be dead. I only bought it - not last summer, but the summer before as I recalled.

“You changed your battery July, 2016 . . . that is hardly a year and a half old.”  He said.

I thought, ‘How did he know that?’

“I got the Gold battery, I always get the best battery. Living out in the country . . . you know.” I answered.

“Where did you get it? Advanced Auto?” He guessed as he looked me straight in the eyes.  I wasn’t expecting it. 

He had typical mechanic dirty nails, but his eyes were the clearest ice blue I’d ever seen in my life. – I wasn’t expecting those.

“Yeah,” I said thinking – who is that actor with eyes like that.  I drew him into more conversation just so I could look into those eyes and maybe it would jog my memory.   I thought, A-team, who was that actor.  He was in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and yes, the close up of him in Blue Max.  But, the name didn’t come.

The AAA mechanic was packing up and said, “Turn the car off and we’ll see if it starts again.”

I did as was told.  It started up again like a charm.

Then the AAA mechanic slipped into over-drive customer service with a smile and those dancing ice blue eyes.

“You need to drive around a bit.  Actually, if you got it at Auto Zone, go back there and have them check your battery.  It might have a bad cell – you can exchange it – I believe you are still under warranty  . . .”

I wasn’t expecting that – excellent customer service and a suggestion to check on my battery warranty.  Me, I never would have thought of that.  All I was thinking about was,   ‘Thank heavens I’ve got wheels again, and my car doesn’t have to be towed to a garage and  . . . and who is that actor?  I can see him plain as day, but the name is just not coming.’

“You are all set.”

“Do I need to sign anything?”

“No.”

He got in his vehicle and left.  I left my car running while I ran in and got my purse.  I drove directly to Auto Zone, had them check my battery, and as it was still under warranty they installed a brand new one for free. - I wasn’t expecting that.

When I got home, I explained the new battery situation with my husband and asked,

“Who was the fella on the TV show ‘A-Team’. He was also in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and in The Blue Max.”

He instantly said, “George Peppard – Why?”

“The AAA mechanic – he had ice blue eyes – just like George Peppard.”

My husband gave me a squinty look for moment and then shrugged his shoulders and walked away.  I was expecting that.

October 20, 2016 – “Cat here in a no name slob” 

          Perhaps you recognize that line.  It is from the final six minutes of the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s starring Audrey Hepburn, [Holly Golightly] and George Peppard [Paul Varjak]. Every time I watch this movie I pay more attention to the cat in the final embrace in the pouring rain in a rubbish filled alley way in New York City than the two actors.

          “No-name-slob” is picked up by Holly Golightly and shoved into the open lapels of her classic trench coat.  What a lucky wet, orange cat.

          When the stars embrace and kiss ‘No-name-slob” turns and looks directly into the camera.  That face, that wet cat’s face simply tugs at my heart strings every time.  It never fails.   Then the song comes up . . . Moon River. . . 

          We have a new feral cat.  Or perhaps I should word that differently, a “No-name-slob” imposter has adopted us.   He acts just like he stepped out of that rain soaked New York Alley.  And, he is a dead ringer for “Cat” as Holly Golightly called him.  He has that same pouty face.

How do feral cats innately know who will feed them? 

          “Cat” has been around several weeks now.  He chirps and trots around behind my husband every morning while the bird feeders are filled.  He also has made claim to the real estate along the back walk that is out of the wind.  Most of the time you can find him curled up in the cinnamon colored pine needle mulch which makes him almost unnoticeable as he blends in.

          My husband calls him ‘Tom cat’ which is the same name he has used for the last 18 years for all male feral cats.  I prefer to call him ‘Golden eyes’ because when he sees me he opens and closes those golden eyes in an affectionate way.  Of course he doesn’t come to the name ‘Golden eyes’ yet, but I am hopeful.

          “Cat” is smart.  When it is cool, he jumps on the black canvas roof of my husband’s jeep where the canvas has sucked up the warmth from the sun’s rays.   “Cat” curls up to sleep there and it is warm and safe from predators as he can easily watch from such a vista.

          A day or so ago, as he was sleeping on the jeep roof, a small plane drones overhead in the clear blue autumn sky.  Cat opens his eyes and locates it.  How does he know to search the sky for it? Smart cat.

          He had to be someone’s pet as he lets us pat him and rubs against us.  He is a fussy eater, just like a house cat, who prefers the 70 cents a can brand over the 46 cents a can cat food. And, he prefers canned food, not “cat cheerios” as we call dry food.  So, we know he was someone’s kitty . . . but now he seems to want to live with us.

          “Cat” will hear us moving around in the house early in the a.m. and he will come sit patiently peering in the kitchen patio window letting us know he is there and wants to be feed.  In the last few weeks, he showed up one morning with fight marks from maintaining domination of his new found territory.  Of course, “Cat” won’t tell us who beat him up.  But, he let my husband doctor his wounds with wound healing cream.   What a trusting cat.

          When we spend time out on the patio, he acts like a tame house cat. He jumps on a nearby patio chair, rolls upside down with his chin to the sky and sleeps. He is so completely relaxed around us.  Listening to our conversation he re-adjusts and stretches out totally content and flexes his paws wide open and then closed, wide open and then closed over and over again. 

          My husband pointed out, “He’d make a good bread maker or brick layer with those paws.”

          So, “No-name-Slob” or “Cat” or “Tom Cat” or maybe even “Golden Eyes” looks like he has made a home here and weaseled his way into our hearts and is going to stay a while.