Baldwin
scurried under the front porch steps when the dogcatcher’s black van pulled
into the driveway. He was rather curious
about why the dogcatcher should come visit his house, since not a single dog
lived there.
A
skinny man wearing a red cap with the initials ACC stepped out from
behind the steering wheel and spit a long brown stream of tobacco juice onto
the ground just barely missing the newly planted marigolds that lined the
walkway. He wiped his chin on his sleeve
as he made his way up the steps to the front door and rang the doorbell . . . bbrringgg.
After
only a few seconds, the door opened. “Yes,
may I help you?” said the human mother.
Baldwin stayed silent, for he wanted to hear every word that
transpired. “Yes, Ma’am,” said the
skinny man. His speech was a bit unclear,
since it was difficult to talk with that large wad of tobacco bulging in his left
cheek. “My name is Mr. Rorre. I’m from Animal
Control Center. Yesterday, we got some
complaints about your cat, Baldwin.
“Neighbors
talk about him roaming the neighborhood and looking in their windows. Even Mrs. Bees, the minister around the
corner, complained that he picked a fight with her ol’ cat, Thelma. I’m here to tell ya that we’ve captured that
little fella, and now, he’s serving time at the pound.”
Baldwin
had heard enough; he felt insulted and knew exactly what to do. He meowed very loudly as he came out of
hiding, “What? Me? Fighting with old
Thelma? What an absurdity! And I won’t even comment about roaming!” He then ran swiftly past the man into the
safety of his house. Mr. Rorre was so
surprised, that he swallowed a bit of his tobacco. He coughed, sputtered and gagged while
turning a shade of green.
“I
best be going, Ma’am,” Mr. Rorre exclaimed quickly after he regained his voice.
“I believe what we’ve got here is a case
of mistaken identity; please accept my forgiveness. I’ll tell the Reverend Bees that the suspect
at the Animal Control Center ain’t Baldwin,
cause he ain’t no bully after all.”
The
human mother began to laugh, “Why thank you, Mr. Rorre. You know, Baldwin hasn’t the time to fight,
since he is much too preoccupied with sleeping, eating and bird watching.” Baldwin sighed with relief as he heard the
black van pull out of his driveway. He
nestled down into his pillow for a nap. “Bless
my dear mother; she knows me so well.”
