“Lovely cat,” the candidate gushed as the woman opened the door on Highland Avenue Wednesday evening.
“It’s way too fat,” she said.
“It is a little chubby,” cautious canvassing candidate said. “We miss our cat. He died recently .”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said. “Why don’t you take this fat cat?”
“Well, no, we couldn’t afford to feed a very fat cat,” I replied.
“Feed it less. It will slim down,” she said. “If I vote for you and maybe take a lawn sign will you take this fat cat?”
By then, watched closely by porko puss, we were both laughing so hard I had trouble telling her that Sue, my cat-crazed wife, was in charge of our lawn-sign crew and she might be able to talk her into adopting the ball of grey-black fur.
While fatty catty rolled on his/her back, the woman said she’d take a sign and watch out for Sue.