Saturday, November 17, 2012

I'm mopping the kitchen and this tabby cat strolls in. "You Guillermo Lopez?" she says. "I heard you could help me out." I wring the mop out and keep mopping.

"You heard wrong, cat. I'm retired."

The cat says to me, "So why don't you start back up?" I shake my head.

"It was the forcible kind of retirement. I ain't authorized to do that no more." She twitches her tail, annoyed.

"Since when has that stopped you?" I slam the mop into the bucket. Filthy water splashes everywhere. She doesn't flinch, just keeps staring at me with these big golden eyes. I glare at her.

"Lemme get my coat," I say. Her ears flatten.

"A coat? You have gotten soft." She whirls around and bounds out the door. I go
after her. I had that feeling in my gut; like I was making a huge mistake. Aw, hell. I've been wrong before.