Saturday, May 5, 2007

a new friend.

In the two years of living here in town, we have not made friends with any of our neighbors, including the old woman who lives in the house behind us.


She lives alone, with a white cat. The whole time we have lived here, John and I wonder: is the cat a boy or a girl? What is his/her name? And then our imagination goes wild...and...not so nice.

I have always felt bad about teasing the old woman (behind her back - oops, not saying I wouldn't feel bad if we did it to her face). My mom once went for a walk with my baby daughter and spotted the old woman putting flowers on a gravesite down the road. She told us our neighbor was a very nice lady.

Today, the old woman was outside picking apple blossoms off of her apple tree. The apple tree comes very close to our fence, where our dog Sammie, freely romps and plays. Sammie loves attention and getting pets, so needless to say, with the old woman being so nearby, Sammie put her paws on the fence and licked the old woman, sometimes pawing her on the back and in the hair.

I could never tell if the old woman cared for Sammie or if the dog might even scare her. So, out of my comfort zone, I slid the sliding door out of the way and said: "Sammie, be nice!"

The old lady said: "oh - you have a really nice dog here!" And then, we talked for some time. She asked what my baby girl's name was. I answered "Johnna," and then asked what her kitty was named.

"Millie," she said happily. She went onto telling me about her ideas on what happened to Millie's eye (it is covered with a natural eye patch - icky!) She figured someone threw Millie out of a car (the old woman lived on a farm, on a gravel road, before having moved to town). She took Millie to the vet, and, when deciding to move to town, also decided to take Millie with her.

"She looks so happy! We see her out playing and have always wondered what her name is!"

Our conversation was short, but friendly...and nice, and now I feel that I should become friends with the old woman. Like go to her house for tea...or if I see her outside, just stick my head out of the door and say "hi" to her.

The old woman has a past. Everyone has a past. Everyone's past deserves to be heard. People's pasts are interesting, but not enough people care enough to listen. And the old woman's time will soon be up, here on Earth. And no one - mainly John and I - would have known that the naughty little white kitty who has taunted Sammie for two years...has a girly little name like Millie. Or that the old lady was caring and friendly enough to have rescued Millie one day...only to have carried on with her into their town setting. One might have assumed (like myself) that the old woman had always lived there, letting Millie out to play each day, and, one day, after a careless fight with a tom, the kitten returned with a messed up eye.

But that is not how the story goes.

The old woman's television is on practically all night. Is she lonely? Scared? Does she need a friend? I need a friend. No one can have too many friends.

My Grandma lives alone, with a kitten named Butterscotch. And her TV is often on, as well.

Sometimes the old woman wears manly looking windbreakers...and I wonder if they were her husbands. And she probably thinks of him dearly as she refills her birdfeeders with birdseed, Millie happily following behind.

Labels: cat, elderly, neighbors

Melissa at 1:03 PM

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