She came in last week, spitting mad after reading one of my articles, not even sure what she wanted except to talk.

And I noticed mostly the bags under her eyes; the way her shirt was gray or yellow where it should have been white, so thin it seemed a matter of time before it simply disintegrated.

“I’ve been working in my garden, hope you don’t mind,” she said as we sat down.

Yesterday I stood in the grocery store aisle, looking to see if any helpful store employee was passing by who might care to lift a bag of litter off the shelf for me. Someone started speaking or mumbling, rather, and I turned and saw her.

She was telling me where to find coupons for all my cat supplies, and she kept walking as she talked.

I smiled appreciation but didn’t say much.

She was gone and I lifted my own bag of cat litter but I wondered about her. There’s a gold band on her left hand; she knows where to find coupons online but doesn’t have a computer (she told me so); she travels miles to cat spay/neuter clinics and miles to complain to me about the people quoted in my article but doesn’t so much as grab a remotely clean T-shirt first. Like she said, she doesn’t care.

But things that are important to her? Like cats? She dedicates herself to those causes.

I guess there’s just so much one can worry about at a time.



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