I love animals. I’ve had lots of them over the years, and our dog Jaxon is one very special little lady. But every time I travel home to Statesboro, it seems there’s something strange going on with my parents’ animals. During college, I returned one Thanksgiving to find our beagle Molly had been put down several months earlier. After Mother backed over the neighbor’s cat with her car, people in town started to joke that if you had too many pets, you just needed to pay a visit to the Price house.
On our most recent Statesboro trip, Ben and I thought we’d be coming home to a pet-free house. Mother told us in advance that she had given away the two remaining cats. One was found dead on their porch a couple of weeks after that move, but I like to think that the other, our black Persian names Xerxes, is living the good life with a nice family somewhere.
Well, my parents’ house may be free of animals, but the backyard is full of feral cats. Mother insists upon feeding them, and they have multiplied.
This orange tomcat was the mangiest of the bunch.
He’s giving me the evil eye.
He makes a run for it. Right in the direction of a busy street. That a boy!