I love my neighborhood. I adore it, in fact. It’s all I can do not to become one of those annoying, crazy people who encourage everyone to mope into their neighborhood. When I leave for work and come home I look forward to going across the street the get from love from my neighbor’s dog, Lilly. As I lie in bed, collapsed in exhaustion from the day, I like to watch the young squirrel who lives across the street climb up the trees and run along the power lines with his messed up tale. (Seriously, I think one day on the power lines he got struck by lightening and his tail beared the brunt of it.) One of my most truly favorite things is checking outside, at least once a day but sometimes a lot more than that, to what new life is in my yard. Lately it has been a new bloom here and a green sprout showing there. During colder months it’s typically a cat camping out under my porch or car. It’s an exciting place to live!
One evening, a few weeks ago, I went for a walk. I had just finished working in the garden so I was wearing running shorts, a tank top and my iPod. It was fun getting to explore the neighborhood and enjoy the nice weather. As I walked down various streets I saw some steps disappearing down a hill. This is pretty par for the course in Cincinnati, where stairways creep up and down hills all over the city – some connecting and leading to destinations while others trail off to nowhere. I’ve always wanted to do some hillside step explore – seriously, the things are fascinating remnants of a seemingly different city – so I went down the steps.
Naturally.
Everything started off okay. The steps led down to a street very close to mine and at the one end if it there were these great, funky houses. Naturally I wanted to see the street. As I walked along I saw Bubba and his Dad drinking beers on the side of the road. They saw me so I didn’t feel like I could turn back so I walked on. Walking past them, in my shorts and tank top remember, were the longest 5 seconds of my life. I said hey to them and got the hell out.
Down Bubba and his Dad’s street was the largest cat colony I’ve ever seen in person and I spent a while harassing and trying to pet the feral beasts. At the end of the street I realized I had walk straight into the middle of the ghetto so I hustled my rear back home via a non-Bubba route.
The next day I showed Wonder Boy the street I walked down and promised never to go there again alone but wanted him to see the cats. Sometimes I drive down the street still for kicks. And to check on the cats. I know. Anyway, the other day I was driving down it and saw Bubba and his Dad. They were feeding the cats. Not so scary after all.
Anonymous
Aww, see you CANT always judge a book by its cover. I hope they also do TNR for the cats too; someone should before it gets even bigger and harder to manage. Poor kitties.