That title reminds me of Shakespeare’s, Exit, Chased by a Bear. The Winter’s Tale, a play Mary acted in once. Or was the stage direction, Exit, Pursued by a Bear? I can’t remember, though an episode of Shakespeare and Hathaway, a KET mystery series, was titled the same. Without a comma after “enter,” it sounds as though the cat’s name is “Enter,” which would be an interesting name for our remaining cat, if she hadn’t already been named Dusty.
So, we had two cats. Pinkie was our long time companion black cat, who just showed up one day, thirteen or fourteen years ago. Somebody here fed her; wasn’t me! And after three days, she came in the house and never left till a few weeks ago when whatever was wrong with her grew excessive and we had to have her euthanized. That was followed, a week or so later, by Dexter the Beagle who also received the death pill. Goodness. He was cremated and his ashes now sit in a lovely wooden box on our living room table. That leaves us with crippled Simon and Frollie and Schuster. Frollie is old too and has trouble walking; Schuster is middle aged. Enter, the cat. That would be Dusty who also just showed up a year or so ago. Now that Pinkie is no more, buried in the backyard, Dusty walks all over the house, (thus, Enter the cat) though she sleeps in the Sun Room, usually on the back of a chair or on the seat. A phone poem for a cat:
Names
We call her Dusty,
Though God only knows
The 96 names
By which each cat goes.
Wrinklenose
Destroyer
Lickcoat
Musgrave
Enter
Shekinah
Joe
and just
Left of Center
The rest are those which God only knows
and, of course,
Suppose.
