Watchdogs

So, I have these upstairs neighbors... Jimmy and Richard.  Richard is very quiet.  He's big but doesn't talk much.  Think Lenny from "Of Mice and Men".  Then yawn a bit and say "Hi Kitty."  It's a little unnerving.  Jimmy, on the other hand, likes to ask questions about what I'm doing, where I'm going, and who is visiting.  He does have a part time job working with the town. Jimmy is very loud and likes to tell Richard what to do and ask everyone else what on earth they are do-ING.  They are mentally challenged folks, and more than anything, they like to do two things.

One:  They like to sit at the top of the stairs and stare down at me while I leave, arrive, work on my car, etc.  Richard is the expert. 

Two:  They like cats.  They like to notice cats.  They like to pet cats through screen windows.  They like to pet cats through screen windows attached to bedrooms containing a girl working on her laptop late at night.  They like to count how many cats I have, and notice that one cat looks just like their cat, Amos.  This happens every day.

I've also decided that my cats are pent up and have been through a lot, so I got them a harness.  Yeah, I know.  But there's a girl two streets down who walks HER cat occasionally, and I think it's great.  So I got a harness and stuffed Pilgrim in it.  Oakley will get her harness soon, don't worry.

At first it was hilarious.  Pilgrim wasn't so sure, but the lure of outside outweighed his annoyance at his new outerwear.  Before long (about 2 days), he was racing me out the screen and running across the parking lot to his favorite grassy snack. 

Given that I'm not a fan of the typical outcome of said grassy snacks, I decided to tie Pilgrim to my planter while I worked on the car.  He wasn't a fan of that EITHER, but he eventually settled down to enjoy outside and watch the birds.  I turned my back and took apart a door.

And that's when all hell broke loose.  Jimmy, a large frumpy man with a body that resembles a soft-serve ice cream cone, came storming down the stairs in his usual emergency-type manner.  Pilgrim FLIPPED.  He not only knocked over the planter, shattering it into a billion pieces, the subsequent crash caused him to bolt, wrapping him like a tether-ball around the nearest porch post.  I have the scars to show how upset he was, and he ran into the house like a good kitty.

Jimmy decided to state the obvious, because we all know someone had to.  "OH!  He doesn't like me!"
I could not contain my sarcasm.  "Nope."
"He ran away!"
"Yyyyep,"  I replied as I started my plant recovery.
"Do you have two kitties?  He looks like Amos!"
*sigh*

In all fairness, I did learn to appreciate my housemates during the incident.  My upstairs neighbor kindly offered me a coal bucket for the dirt.  My new neighbor graciously offered me a spare flower pot for the summer.  The plants were repotted and the mess was cleaned up.  But I was exasperated.  I tried to make light of it when Gary next door mentioned it.

"You worked so hard to make it nice..."  He said.
"Well, at least he didn't knock over the car..."

Gary laughed.  But it's true- I try so hard to have a fun and pretty space...which is difficult because it's not an outwardly pretty space to work with.  But I'm learning...and it's picking up.  It's just frustrating to have it dashed in a careless moment.  But I can't get mad.   It's not their fault...they're just socially unaware.  I can get used to the staring.  I can put up with the screen petting.  I cannot put up with the bedroom petting, and I'm sad that I have to keep the drapes closed on these beautiful summer nights.

Sigh.