We all make mistakes, and here’s one of mine.
This is the cat formerly known as Bully Cat.
When Carport Kitty (may she rest in peace) first started hanging around in our carport more than a year ago, a larger comparatively healthy looking gray cat which I now know is a type of Tabby attacked the smaller frail Calico we named CPK when she walked toward her food bowl one afternoon. I then jumped to the conclusion that the larger gray cat was malicious so I named this interloper Bully Cat. Later on I found it strange that CPK always left Bully Cat some of her food – she seemed to be friends with this cat I chased off every time I caught him lingering over her food bowl. And when I say chased off, I’m not talking about chasing in a nice way.
How could Bully Cat be mean if CPK liked him?
Regardless of my high drama trying to scare him away, the Bully Cat stayed close to CPK for as long as she lived. Since her death five weeks ago, Bully Cat and another CPK amigo I dubbed Tuxedo Cat have wandered through our carport periodically. I told Pretty they were grieving for her, but turns out they were interested in the reliable food chain that once belonged to Carport Kitty.
No one will be surprised I put out a small amount of kibble in the morning for Tuxedo Cat when she triggered our security lights the way CPK used to do. Sigh. I miss that little creature every day.
Tux usually shares with Bully Cat like Carport Kitty used to do.
This morning, however, I looked out my kitchen door and saw the Bully Cat hissing at Tux, his back arched for battle, teeth bared. What in the world had gotten into him? And then I saw it: a pink rhinestone infused collar around his/her thick neck. A light bulb went off in my tiny brain that I had just seen Bully Cat sharing a morning meal with Tux in our carport. No sign of a pink rhinestone collar five minutes before.
The only explanation I could think of when I told Pretty the story was the Bully Cat I had berated for months was really Carport Kitty’s friend – there was a mean Tabby in our neighborhood, but it wasn’t him. I felt awful for my mistake, my unwillingness to change my original judgment which was a simple case of mistaken identity. (Bully Cat has been renamed Belli Cat by Pretty, same initials BC.)
No one lives to be seventy-six years old without making blunders, but this one was a doozy. I have no excuses, but I hope I’ve been reminded of a valuable lesson about looking twice before I jump to judgment…sometimes our mistakes have a ripple effect that hurts the innocent.
If we’re lucky, we get a second chance.
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Today is the 1st day of December. Pretty and I want to share a miraculous Christmas cactus we somehow managed not to kill in the five months since she brought it home from one of her treasure hunts. Enjoy.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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