Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Mary Bone

The neighbors call me Goldie. The milk put out on the doorstep for me is perfect. I make my rounds on Kool Aid street every day. This block has always been mine since I left my scent on every rug and mat, except for the drug house down the street, where the owner has a broom. Sometimes I’ve wished she would take off on it since this had been a wonderful street ever since I was a kitten.

Today I sit on a rock in the sunshine, giving myself a bath. It will be great when all the kids get back from school and they will play with me and pat me on the head. I have become very special with the home owners especially when I leave my prize,” a mouse”, on their porch from time to time.

There is a gray cat that I fight with nearly every day. She has been getting on my nerves for quite some time. An elderly lady on Kool Aid Street has spoiled her and she puts out an expensive cat food that you can smell from a block away. The cat food smells like fish and it makes me hungry. The bad part of the gray cat’s presence has been the fact that she hangs onto the front porch screens with her sharp claws and tears them up. The owners have opened their doors at night yelling, “Get out of here!” She is wanting more of the expensive cat food. I can’t wait until she gets completely out of here so I can get the special cat food for myself. Life is sweet on Kool Aid Street.

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