4
THAT woman… AGAIN!
“Oh, hi!” She said it like we were old friends.
I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my anger contained. “Do you have an orange tabby cat?” I asked her without preamble.
“Oh, you’ve met Morty.” Her voice again sounded as if we were having a friendly chat before sitting on her comfy-looking front porch swing to sip iced tea from tall glasses.
“Not exactly, no.” I kept my tone dry to make it clear that we were NOT going to be friends. The other woman stood several inches taller than me, but I was used to being in that situation and didn’t let it intimidate me. “He just attacked my purebred Persian cat,” I informed her briskly.
Her giant black dog chose that moment to investigate who was at his door. I could see the exact instant when recognition registered. His dee
