On the morning of January 21, I had stepped out to see my barber. The walk was about a block from my apartment to the shop at 83rd Street, but getting there and back seemed longer than I preferred. Each trip now took around twenty minutes from the time I locked the apartment door and shuffled to the elevator to Amsterdam Avenue and then to 83rd Street. In my days when I needed neither a cane nor walker, the same trip took me no more than five minutes.
Oh, God, I thought, do I miss my ability to walk fast and not shuffle at a snail’s pace.
I entered the building, slowly climbed the five steps up to the lobby, and shuffled to the elevator. As soon as the doors opened on three, I relaxed. Thank God I’m home in one piece, I thought, no falls, no injuries.
I opened the apartment door, and Stella ran to greet me.
Hello, Stella bella! Were you good while I was gone? Fat chance, I thought. Where are your brother and sister?
I gave the apartment a quick look. I could see Annabelle and Thatch sitting in the window. I folded up the walker, hanged my cap on the bathroom door, and shuffled into the living area. I sat on the trunk sitting next to the window. Annabelle turned to me.
I see you returned in one piece, she said. He always worries, Thatch.
Hey, Missy, be nice. It’s scary. My biggest fear is that I’ll fall down the steps in the lobby.
Well, you didn’t.
Nope, not today, but tomorrow is another day.
You never make any sense.
Did you bring us anything? Thatch asked.
No, Thatch, I didn’t. I’m sorry. All I could think about was getting home and lying down to rest my legs.
Well, before you do, Annabelle interjected, would you please toss this bag into the garbage?
What is it, Missy?
It’s our “Cats Against Trump” shirts and caps. We’re “Cats for Biden” now, you know.
Yes, I know, and I’ve already ordered your new caps and shirts. Do you really want to throw out your “Cats Against Trump” apparel?
Well, since he’s out of office. yes, indeed!
You know he’s threatening to run again?
He wouldn’t dare, Annabelle snarled.
Won’t he be in jail? Thatch asked.
Oh, I wish! Any way, I think you should keep them and not toss them out. I still have my McGovern for President button and buttons for every election since then.
We cats aren’t sentimental like that, Annabelle sniffed.
Annabelle, Thatch prompted, ask him.
What? Oh, I wanted to butter him up first.
Ask me what, Annabelle, I asked?
I need a recommendation from you.
Oh, God, I thought, this could be scary. Instead I asked, A recommendation? For what?
Well, you know I was angry that I wasn’t asked to sing at the inauguration?
Yes, Missy, I remember your fit yesterday too well.
Thatch giggled, and Annabelle gave him a sharp look.
Well, I’ve decided that Biden’s White House needs a talented and attractive cat to live with Major and Champ, and . . .
Yes? I prompted. You’ve decided?
I want to apply for the job, she blurted. I can lobby for animal rights while I’m in DC. I want to make all animal shelters no-kill shelters.
That’s very noble, Annabelle, but I would be broken-hearted to lose you. How can I live without you? You’re my little girl . . .
You can always move to DC so you and Thatch and Stella could be near me. I will be busy with my feline duties and lobbying, though.
I don’t know, Missy. That’s a pretty big step, and I’m an old man.
The President and First Lady are bound to love me. Major and Champ will adore their new sister. I’m beautiful, very talented, easy to live with . . .
Oh, brother, I thought.
Thatch started pacing as he muttered, I like New York, Annabelle. All my friends are here. Val, Maryann, Pebble and Oyster-
They’re just pigeons, Annabelle stated. They can fly down to visit, and besides, I . . .
Her voice became very soft, and I couldn’t hear a thing she said.
What did you say, Annabelle? Did you hear what she said, Thatch?
Yes, but you don’t want to know.
Annabelle gave him a nasty look. Then she turned to me and said quite clearly, I want to be the White House cat so I can sing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial! The whole nation is waiting for “Annabelle With An A!”
I had no answer to that. I rose slowly from the trunk and, followed by Stella, made my way to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the vodka. Stella bit my ankle.
©2021, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 