Originally Posted by
GOLDEN
Here's how my college boyfriend (LII) and I recovered a lost cat.
When I found a homeless spotty kitten in the parking lot, I took it to Richard because I already had a cat, and all he had were books.
I leaned down toward the creature, and it thought my shiny green eye looked like a toy, I guess, because it stared, entranced, a few moments, then stuck its evil little paw right in. I jumped back and yelled, "Shit!"
And Richard said, "Pokey."
"What?" I asked, confused, rubbing my eye.
"I'm going to name him Pokey."
***
The relationship was like this: Richard sat in his apartment, reading, and I'd show up every couple of days at about 4:00 pm. Maybe he would put down the latest book. For sex, for a sandwich, maybe a conversation. One of these evenings, something was off. I glanced around suspiciously.
"Where's Pokey?" I asked.
Richard looked sheepish. "He's lost."
"What do you mean he's lost?"
I kept interrogating and discovered Richard hadn't even tried to locate the goddamned cat.
He thought it was hopeless. Pokey'd been gone two days already.
"This is ridiculous," I said. "Look."
I pulled out a notebook and a marker and drew a cartoon of Pokey. I put a big headline above it:
"POKEY IS LOST."
At the bottom I penned, "Please call Richard today," plus the phone number. I drove us to Kinko's to get copies made.
***
Back home, Richard remained useless.
He said he didn't know where to put the signs, and reminded me how he'd already given up and didn't see the point.
So he went back to reading, and I did the rest of the job myself. Jeez.
In the warm night, I closed my eyes and tried to think like Pokey. Where would I go? I scanned the block and one particular house caught my attention. It glowed from all its windows and hummed with student voices. It had a kind of glitter about it.
I, as Pokey, badly wanted to go there. So I crept into the yard and put signs on three of the trees around this house.
Then I quit the "be Pokey" game and put signs up everywhere that seemed logical: lampposts, apartment-complex notice boards, coffee shop window . . . This took about three hours.
***
When I got back to Richard's place, Pokey was already there with him. Pokey had been hanging out in that first tempting house, and someone there had called right away, and Richard had gone to retrieve him.
"You're psychic," Richard said.
"No, but I wouldn't let you give up. You need Pokey."
The fucking end