Counting by 7s(59)

And that’s when he got a close-up look at the creature formerly known as Cheddar.

The cat was thin and mangy with one hairless ear and a chunk missing from his now-crooked tail.

But the animal was more than scarred and dirty; he was frantic and desperate.

Cheddar arched his back and in an attempt to appear fierce, showed his spiky teeth as his pale green eyes turned dark jade.

A chill ran up Dell’s spine.

He had adopted Cheddar, and then he’d let the animal fend for himself in a parking lot.

He had not made a single attempt to rescue him.

Dell stared into the eyes of the frightened feline, and something clicked.

He had to take more responsibility for his actions.

He’d start with the cat.



Dell grabbed Cheddar by the scruff of the neck and was surprised at how easy it was to get control of the animal.

Cheddar was not a feral cat.

He’d been brought up with the touch of a human hand and he seemed perfectly happy to get back in the company of a man with possible access to canned food.

Dell crossed the lot back to his car and then he squeezed himself and Cheddar into his vehicle.

Cheddar jumped into the back as Dell started the engine.

He could hear a new sound now. It was low, but distinct.

The cat was purring under his seat.

Dell reversed out of the parking spot, and curiously this time the fence post didn’t even touch his vehicle.



Dell dropped off Cheddar at a vet on Central Avenue with instructions for a flea bath and a full exam. He’d pick the animal up at the end of the day.

He then returned to the school district offices, and this time parked on the street and walked two blocks.

He then went straight to the main office, and reported damaging the van.

It turned out the school district had insurance and the woman told him not to worry.

Dell went to his office with a spring in his step.

Maybe it was the running. He’d lost almost fifteen pounds.

Or maybe it was knowing that he’d done right by Cheddar.





Chapter 52





The cat is back.

It’s very big news around here.

At least to me.

Sadhu is allergic, so Cheddar is going to live with us in #28.

For now.

I’m obsessed with this cat.

And it’s working out because Cheddar is sort of obsessed with me, or at least very interested, which in the world of felines counts as obsessive behavior.

The cat sleeps on my bunk of the Semper Fi beds, tucked inside the curl of my body.

He wheezes once he’s really asleep.

When I get up early to go to the bathroom I see the cat move his crooked tail in his sleep.

His paws twitch.

He’s running.

I would like to see those dreams.

Cheddar waits on the ledge of the front window for me to come home from the salon in the afternoon.

Or maybe he just enjoys the view. But it certainly looks like he sits with a sense of expectation.



I have my life’s savings in a metal box under my bed.

I have tried to contribute each week for food costs (I think of it as a reverse allowance), but Pattie refuses to accept the money.

I try to get Dell to take some and he also says no. His no isn’t as solid as her no, but he gets his point across.

So today is the first time I’m spending any of my cash.

I go to the pet store on 7th Street.

I pick out a lime-green breakaway safety cat collar. It is highly reflective and glows in the dark.

I pay an extra two dollars to have Cheddar seared into the bendable plastic. I add Pattie’s phone number—not Dell’s—for emergencies.

I also insist that the collar have a bell. Cats in the wild do so much destruction to the bird population.

But I think that if Cheddar has his way, the cat will never set foot on anything but carpet for the rest of his life.

I’ve left the door open and he has no interest in even investigating the hallway in our building.

Once I get back to the apartment and Cheddar has been outfitted with the new collar, Quang-ha complains about what he calls “the annoying ringing.”

But even he has to admit that the cat (with the hairless ear and the crooked tail) is in his own way sort of inspiring.



Dell and I talk about practical things now in my weekly sessions.

I have two concerns.

I am anxious, of course, about finding a legal guardian.

And I’m constantly thinking about what to do once the sunflowers are finished.

The plants have grown in these last few weeks and they have bloomed.

Quang-ha’s is the tallest. It reached almost seven feet. I think everyone in the building has really appreciated the spectacle.

A few people have complained about the bees.

But it’s impossible to please everyone.

Now these plants are on the downside of their lifecycle. I need to think of what to do once they are removed.

If you slice off part of most established plants—this mature plant can be thought of as the parent—and you nurture this severed portion, it will grow.

It is called a cutting.

I have no real resources (that I can think of, because my life’s savings don’t add up to much) to landscape the large area of soil in the courtyard.