No photographs, please

La gata negra del barrio

Meet Miss Kitty, my new, fast-moving neighbor, who, while extraordinarily affectionate for a cat, apparently has a "no photographs" clause in her contract. She just moves too darned quickly for me to get a good snap of her.

Normally, I am indifferent to the charms of cats. However, I am willing to make an exception for this one. She has begun greeting me every evening when I get home from work, almost every morning as well, and even during the day on weekends. Whenever she hears my garage door open, whether for my bike or my car, she flies out from a nearby alley, squalling hello, rubbing up against my legs, wanting me to stroke her back, her face, and even, tentatively, her belly. She has climbed into my lap once and even let me pick her up with no fuss just the other day.

Oh Miss Kitty, you had me at "meow."

I'd like to think that this cat-man love is limited just to me--and I may be right in that assumption. When Cairo last visited, she seemed surprised, even indifferent to him (and he's much more of a cat man than me) and even somewhat to me. She let me pet her . . . sort of. She let Cairo pick her up, which I didn't have the nerve to do prior to that, fearing the usual reaction I get from cats. (Pet me pet me pet me! How dare you pet me! Scratch!) But her reaction to both of us was all very perfunctory, very polite, very this-is-what-I'm-required-to-do. And then she coughed up a hairball in our presence.

It was like she suddenly went from being her normal Brazilian self to being British in spirit in the blink of an eye.

The next day, when Cairo left, she was back in black, with la Gata Negra hanging out with me while I tried to repair my bike brakes. This took hours (and I still didn't get them right), but le Chat Noir explored the garage, lolled about on the driveway, rubbed up against my hands and legs, and invited her (I'm assuming) kitten over for a visit. Even while I bitched, cursed, and dropped tools all over the concrete, she didn't sprint away in fear.

If all cats were this sweet, this charming, this happy, I'd consider getting one of my very own. Nonetheless, I don't think I'm likely to become a cat person anytime soon--and if I do, feel free to report me to the authorities as I will have officially lost my freakin' mind.

But I could get used to having Miss Kitty around the house. At least if she could stop coughing up hairballs.