Love Your Neighbor

Yesterday as I was mowing my lawn, my neighbor waved and walked over to where I was bagging grass clippings. She and her husband had just moved in next door during the past winter. They're young, energetic, and a 90's modern couple. A great addition to the block.

"We're going to be gone for a week," she said, "hiking and camping with friends in Kentucky. I was wondering if you could do us a favor?"

"Absolutely, sure, do you want me to keep an eye on your flowers, pick up your mail...what?"

"Thanks, but I was hoping you'd take care of Lucy."

I didn't answer right away. Thinking the worst that a Lucy would be in my house...I was silent for a while. Lucy is a cat and I don't much care for cats. "Well, I don't know..."

My neighbor could sense my apprehension. "Oh, Lucy's almost self-sufficient. She's an indoor cat and she's so sweet."

Instead of saying "no" which is what I really wanted to say, I said, "So, what's involved in watching a cat?"

"All you have to do is put food in her bowl twice a day and give her fresh water."

That didn't seem too tough. So I said, "Okay, I'll watch Lucy. "My neighbor's face lit up into a billboard-size thank you smile.

"Why don't you come over when you're finished out here and I'll show you where her food is kept and you can meet Lucy."

After sweeping up and putting my yard tools away, I went to my neighbor's house. Inside I was pleased to see that Lucy ate dry food and not that gross-looking stuff in those small tins. Then I was introduced to Lucy. "Mike, this is Lucy, now Lucy say 'hi' to Mike," my neighbor joked. Lucy sauntered by, gave me a cat-eye look, and brushed up against my leg. "See, she's marked you, she likes you."

Lucy turned out to be kind of good looking for a cat. She had a thick coat of large chocolate, tan, and white swatches...a calico cat, I was informed. "When should I feed her?"

"Oh, in the morning before you go to work and then again in the evening between five and seven. And by the way, Lucy likes it when you talk to her while she's eating."

"Talk? What kind of talk?"

"Just anything really. She eats and digests better when someone is in the room with her."

"Why not just leaving a radio or TV on?"

"She likes a real person, she can tell the difference. I've tried.."

As I started to leave and think about what I had agreed to do, my neighbor asked if maybe I'd like to hold Lucy. Now, I grew up with dogs, hunting dogs, German shepherds, and all sorts of hounds. I've picked up plenty of dogs. I know what that feels like and what to expect. Cats, that's a different story. So reluctantly and slowly and carefully, I bent down to pick up Lucy. Weird sensation. Unlike holding a dog, there's not much substance to a cat...sort of cotton candy with whiskers and a meow. After finding something to grab, I held Lucy for a full ten seconds and happily placed her in my neighbor's open, welcoming arms. With the introduction and hands-on lesson behind, I was done.

The day before her trip south, my neighbor checked in with last minute instructions. "Are you ready for Lucy?"

"I am and I'm looking forward to my week with your cat."

"It should go great. Lucy's such a good cat. There is one thing, though."

I have to be honest, I don't like the sound of phrases like that. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's really wrong. It's a very common condition for female cats to develop slight urinary tract infections, and Lucy has one."

Now I don't know much about a cat's anatomy, but I have a pretty good idea of where a urinary tract problem ends up and that's not pretty. "What do I have to do about that?"

"Oh really nothing...just medicate here in the morning."

Imagining a whole litter of disgusting possibilities, I asked, "How exactly do I medicate this infection?"

"Easy," she said, "just use the dropper in the bottle and add it to Lucy's food, she likes the taste."

"Great, that I can do!"

My seven days with Lucy went by quickly and rather uneventfully. As she became familiar, she would appear at the side door the very moment the key turned in the lock. She greeted me with what, perhaps, looked like a feline happy face. Anyhow, the care of Lucy went smoothly enough: not a single hissy fit, no mood swings, and, definitely, no attitude confrontations. Lucy was a good cat. For her size, I was amazed at the amount of food she ate. Many times I found a perfectly cleaned out bowl when she finished. It must have been my interesting dinner conversation that inspired her voracious appetite.

The week ended as calmly as it began. Lucy's owners were excited to be reunited with their pet and were pleased with the cat's care and their neighborly care giver.

I walked away relieved and a little puzzled to tell the truth. It was good to know that I had successfully handled a first-time situation. And although I didn't become a cat-lover convert, I have to admit (only privately) that at least I did like a cat named Lucy, my new neighbor.