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Page 10 · column 5 of 8 · from the scan, no model involved
“Down at the Fletchers,” he decided. “They always have a lot of cats.” So he called Millie and she said yes, she’d see if she could yet somebody to catch one for him.
Mid-afternoon: the hired bov from Fletchers arrived with a gunnysack containing protesting cat (name and gender unknown). For rest of afternoon, critter in sack cried piteously, but I ignored it.
Supper time: Lucio returned home and was delighted with “the catch of the day”. After supper he took ladder and hoisted chicken coop up into cherry tree and nestled it like a tree house (or maybe I should say tree calaboose) level and secure with panoramic view obstructed only by« plump clusters of cherries.
But here is where the first hint of flaws in the plan came out.
Children: “He’s not really gonna put that poor kitty in that cage, is he?”
Me: “Yep. That’s what he says” (with a straight face).
Lucio: (setting his jaw) “Hand up the sack.”
Children: (wailing) “How cruel can you get! How CRUEL can you get!!!”
Me: “sput-t-ter, sputter” (trying to hold it in).
By this time men at the barber shop next door were looking our way, all eyes focused on the cherry tree where the drama was being played out.
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