Devon – The Crazy Cat Lady – Part One

“It looked like you hadn’t even been there.”

I met Devon through my long time friend Marigold over ten years ago. (See: Marigold – 1997 to Present – Good German Stock)

Marigold met Devon while riding the bus up in Fairmount. She admired her sense of style and just started talking to her. They became friends. I was introduced to her at some point and liked her. I thought she was kind of hot. Marigold and Devon had even been over to the apartment when Michelle and I lived together.

Devon had a history of making bad decisions in regard to relationships. She has had affairs with married men that went nowhere, or usually has a type in mind, which doesn’t really exist. I also understand she was brought up in a very strict religious family and that’s never good. Add to that some mental illness and that just makes for messed up people.

Years ago when I was living back in Jersey, I was trying to find a home for a cat we had. It’s a long story that can’t be told here, but maybe someday in Phicklejersey. Devon agreed to come and get the cat. She already had a Siamese of her own but this cat was so nice she thought it would work. She came and took the cat and I was happy that she was able to provide a home for it.

I remember she had the cat for a while but then her cat didn’t get along with it so she ended up giving it to another family. Her cat was a prima donna. But Devon made her that way.

As the years rolled by, Marigold wanted her friends to be happy, so she thought I should hang out with Devon more. Most of all of her friends had gotten married and moved on with their lives and Devon was still working three jobs and riding her bike around the city. I reached out to her and invited her over. We watched the comedy Bridesmaids and drank box wine. I also provided some crackers and cheese. She bought over some ice cream and we ate that too. Just talking to her I noticed she was sort of negative about her life and appearance. Concerns about aging. She was pointing out the lines on her forehead. I hadn’t noticed until she brought it up and pointed it out. (that’s always the way with me. Don’t point out your flaws ladies. You’re great just the way you are!)

She was taking a trip one weekend and asked if I’d go to her house and feed her cat. I told her I would be happy to do so. She gave me a set of her keys. The time came and I went over to her apartment. She lived on the ground floor of some shitty building that had some issues. Mice and cockroaches are two things I just don’t like. I’d rather see a mouse that a roach. We had roaches in our home growing up in Northeast Philly. The house was clean but they would appear in the basement at night. So there is a long-standing dislike of cockroaches. However, I do respect how long cockroaches have existed on this planet. way longer than humans. I just don’t want to see those successful fuckers in my house.

I get there and there is a note on the table from Devon. It was a laundry list of things I had to do while there. Empty the litter box, with very specific instructions so that her cat didn’t get an infection. Make sure the cat has fresh water and food. Fill all of the bowls of water that are sitting on the radiators. I think they keep the air fresh as the water evaporates. Take out the trash and recyclable trash. I wish I still had the note because it went on and on, front to back. It was around the holidays and I went two days over the weekend and did all of these things to the letter.

I was pretty proud of myself that I had been so meticulous about following every little step on her very expansive list. When she got home I remember talking with her about her holiday. I asked her if everything looked good at her house and was expecting the praise I so richly deserved.

“It looked like you hadn’t even been there.” was all she said.

I was thinking that would be the last time I ever do anything for this bitch in regard to her apartment or her fucking cat.

 

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