I was working on my 2023 income taxes. I kept lifting Thatch, who wanted to play and be brushed, off my pile of receipts as I tallied up numbers of the money I’d spent on various items. It’s too bad I can’t write off the cats, I thought. A taxi receipt drifted off my worktable … Continue reading 144. APPLE OR CHERRY? →

December 2023 was a very quiet month.  Why is this year different? I wondered. Several days before Christmas, I realized I had heard no sounds of three cats rehearsing for their caroling night, no fights between Annabelle and Thatch, no demands for caroling accessories. No caroling this year? I asked Annabelle. No. Thatch and Stella … Continue reading 143. YES, VIRGINIA, ANOTHER CAROLING EVENT →

I dragged myself up from the basement after dropping off the garbage and sorting the recyclables. I then went to the first floor to check the mail. Nothing. I was in a pathetic mood. Here it is, I thought, two days before Thanksgiving, and there had been no word from Annabelle in a week. There … Continue reading 142. HOLIDAY BLUES →

On my way back to the apartment from the basement, I stopped to see what mail had been left the day before. No bills, thank God, but a lot of requests from animal rescues, Planned Parenthood, AARP, and others for donations. I rode the elevator to three, pushed the walker down the hall and entered … Continue reading 141. CATFISHED! →

It was a dreadful morning in Manhattan. Nothing but rain, high temperatures, and on those days with no rain, the humidity was so high that a walk to the basement to dump the garbage and recyclables left me drenched in sweat and wanting a long cold bath. Would you hurry up? Annabelle asked me while … Continue reading 140. ANNABELLE’S BIG BREAK →

Is he crying again? Annabelle asked Thatch. I don’t know, Annabelle; ask him. All right. I will. She jumped onto the computer table and looked into my face from the top of the computer screen. Are you crying again? she asked me. No, Missy. Why? I asked. What were those sounds you were making? Sounds? … Continue reading 139. COMMERCIALS AND ART →

Really?  Yes, Daddy! It’s true. Are you sure you heard what she said? Yes. Annabelle is dropping her musical. She wants to write another. Thatch had been whispering to me while I cleaned the litter box, and this news astonished me. He and Annabelle had been working on a musical for over four years, although … Continue reading 138. ANNABELLE’S TITANIC IDEA →

. I had been in a good mood. In late April I had seen the orthopedic surgeon who handled knee and hip replacements, and my surgery was scheduled for May 31. I had addressed my neighbors about taking care of the cats for the four days I was expected to be away, and everything was … Continue reading 137. CRYING JAGS & PAPER BAGS →

Oh, Missy Bell! I called. Yes? Annabelle turned back to me. If I’m going to sweat over your breakfast, I replied, the least you can do is eat it. It’s good, Annabelle! Thatch said, looking up from his dish.  I could hardly hear him from the grunts and snarls coming from Stella’s morning dining experience. … Continue reading 136. THE USPS BLUES →

      The phone rang. I stopped writing, set the pencil on the score paper for the current number in the ballet, and rose with great effort from my writing table. By the time I had limped to the phone, the machine had picked up. I grabbed the receiver and said “Hello?” All I could hear … Continue reading 135. THE CASE OF THE WEST 82nd STREET TERRORISTS →