Blessed be

Somewhere on this blog, if you dig deep enough and read every words, I may have mentioned a cab ride from Amsterdam to Paris. The driver and I bonded in Brussels over wine and sandwiches. He kept taking calls from his daughter, who was on holiday in Spain. At some point, while I was relaxing in the back seat of the Mercedes taxi and he had just finished yet another call from his daughter, I mentioned that it appeared she had him somewhat wrapped around her finger. He asked if I had a daughter, and I said I had two. He said, they wrap us around their fingers, but only because we let them.

Truer words.

I am reminded of that taxi drive more often than most taxi rides I have been on. Although one time in New York the driver started to shoot heroin at a stop light, that was memorable. I'm pretty sure he would not be wrapped around his daughters finger anytime soon.

It's an anniversary of sorts, seems like only yesterday, but trust me, it was a long time ago, this beautiful baby came splurging out of her mother, in no particular hurry, she seemed content, quietly entering the room, no need to make a scene. She stayed quiet for a while, then got cleaned up, had a snack and took a nap. Hard not to like that.

I am reminded of a moment, I am not sure when it was, but Permer, my gay fat lazy cat was with me. I was driving an old Volvo and I was in a hurry. There was an intersection coming up, but I had the right of way, the intersecting roads both had stop signs. As I said, we were in a hurry, not so much Permer, he was sleeping in the passengers seat, but I was monitoring a police radio and there was some sort of bank robbery taking place about 10 blocks from me. I was a reporter for an all news radio station, a bank robbery would get me on the air immediately. As the front of my car entered the intersection, a stupid idiot ran the stop sign on my right and smashed into the front panel of my car, pushing me into the on-coming traffic. I locked up my brakes, the oncoming traffic locked up his brakes, and the stupid idiot who had hit me finally decided to lock up her brakes. I came inches from hitting a large GMC truck head on, thanks to the bone headed moron who ran a stop sign.

I radioed into work, there were no cellphones, and I told them I would not make it to the bank robbery. I realized Permer was no longer on the front seat.

A little history. I hate cats. I really do. I am a dog person, always have been, I will die a dog person. You can bury me with my dog. If I die first, you can have her put down and buried with me, that is how much of a dog person I am. If I have a cat when I die, you can let it run wild, I will not care.

I do not like cats. Of course, that said, Permer was a cat and even then, at the blossoming of our relationship, I already had taken a shine to him. He was lazy, he was fat and he had been a long haired persian, but for whatever reason, now he was shaved bald,. which seemed to ruin what little self esteem he had, and he had gone into a funk that led him to over eat, causing him to get more lazy, making him even fatter, it was, in a couple of words, a vicious cycle.

After the accident, when I realized Permer was no longer in the passengers seat, and my door was hanging open, I thought he may have high tailed it out of there. Cats do shit like that. In a storm, some cats have been known to hail a cab, get to the airport and fly to Cuba. True story.

I looked in the car, he was not there.That meant he had run, was probably already at the airport and soon would be gone for good. I liked Permer so I got pissed off at the stupid shithead who was in such a hurry they had to run a stop sign. I began yelling and telling her what sort of education she must have failed to receive as the police pulled up. Soon enough, miss "I don't stop for posted stop signs" was tickted, insurance information exchanged and everything would be worked out. As the tow trucks began to show up, I realized, again, this time a little more seriously, that Permer had not come back. I went back to my car to grab my police scanner, some equipment, a few notebooks, some illegal weapons and Permer. He was back in the passenger seat, sleeping. You have to admire his audacity.

We walked back to the house I was renting. Actually, I walked back to the house I was renting. I carried equipment, pads, radios, assorted important stuff and a rather large, overweight shaved cat with low self esteem. When we got back to the house, he pissed on my pants, thank you very much.

16 Years ago I cried when that cat died. A few months later this beautiful, perfect baby was born and from then on, I have stopped making babies and focused more on raising them.