A Stray Taco

There he was again, that cat. He was nothing special to look at, your typical tabby with dark stripes. His left ear was notched, a sign of a battle. Won? Lost? One could not tell. He yawned at me through the glass of the back kitchen door and meowed loudly. "Good morning, Taco, came here for breakfast, did you?" The cat would show up periodically, I called him Taco because I thought he was the neighbor's cat across from across the street and that is what I heard the little girls that lived there call him. So, Taco it was. He acted like your typical stray, not afraid of my hounds and cautious around other cats. 

This tabby had developed an infinity for our back patio. I think it was because the stones held the heat, and it was a relatively quiet space. The corner where he like to sleep was protected. The occasional blue jay would steal the cat food I now left out for him as a morning snack but other than that he was safe from other neighborhood cats and dogs. Including the other three that lived across the street with him. "Me OW" came the plaintiff noise. "Hey, give me a minute, I have to take care of my brood too you know." He sat there on the welcome mat with his paw up, as if he had hurt it. Giving me a most pitiful look.

My brood was large for my small and humble house. A grey and white seven-year-old cat named Miss Kitty. I know not very imaginative, but she answered to it when she felt like it. A small female, white and brown, greyhound named Vicki and a large black greyhound named Victor. Both hounds were seven and hadn’t raced in years. Vicki didn't like cats but tolerated them. Victor was goofy, extremely nearsighted, and chattered his teeth, he made friends with everything. After feeding was over and the hounds were ready for their walk, I brought a small dish of cat food out to Taco. I grabbed the leashes of the hounds and out the kitchen door, we went. The strange thing was they usually nuzzled Taco, who tolerated it, but today it was as if he wasn't even there. "Suit yourselves", I muttered and off on our walk, we went. Upon our return, Taco was on the blue Adirondack chair near the door and once again the hounds ignored him. "Hmm, you all aren't on speaking terms?" I asked quizzically as I opened the door. I was a bit puzzled but who can figure out the relationships between dogs and cats, it is like figuring out the relationships between men and women. I handed out the hound’s favorite dog cookies and noticed Taco at the door again. "Me OOOWWW" "Ok what is up? You have your food, what could you possibly want now?" "ME OOOOWWWW!!!" Much more urgently this time. "OK, let me get the jacket I just took off." I donned the jacket and grabbed my keys; told the hounds I would be back in a bit and turned my attention to Taco.

Taco led me up the hill to the town cemetery, headstones here went back to revolutionary war times. Hard to believe the town was that old. He led me through the oldest section, then to the back where the newer section was. When we reached the back of the fence I looked around. Typically, coyotes dragged prey here, and hunters also went here during hunting season. It was easy to hunt as the deer typically roamed around up on this hill. At the corner of the fence, Taco began to rub on my leg furiously then tugged at my pants with his claws. "What the heck? you crazy cat." Still, he was relentless. Finally, I moved more toward the fence when something caught my eye. It glinted in the sun. I bent down and I picked it up. I could not believe my eyes, A thin gold chain with a deep red, square cut ruby with a gold bezel. I knew the time period; the piece was from England and from the 1800s. I had an exact match I found at an antique market 50 years prior. The charm I was told was from a set. People broke them up and gave a piece to daughters or grandchildren. I had spent a lot of time researching a possible provenance. I stroked Taco's head, "well this is a find, but how did you know I should find it?". He was purring now quite pleased with himself. 

We headed down the hill and back to my house. Taco then trotted off in a different direction. I suspected he had a lady friend to see. Back at the house, I went around the front instead of using the kitchen door. I saw my neighbor, Matt, from across the street outside tending to an area of his garden. I waved hello and proceeded to tell him how Taco visited me today and we were out for a walk together. Matt turned as white as a ghost. “What is wrong?” He proceeded to tell me quietly so his girls wouldn't hear that Taco had been hit by a car a couple of days ago and that he didn't have the heart to tell the family. He buried him yesterday behind the shed. I nodded. "Well, we have a lot of strays around so it may have been a close relative." I knew it was Taco though, the notched ear, the tiger-striped pattern, it was him. "I am so sorry for your loss; I better get back to the hounds," I said excusing myself. 

Back in the house, I took off my coat and muttered to the hounds, "So that is why you didn't have an interest in Taco, he wasn't there." A bit shaken, I climbed the stairs to get my matching pendant and chain and yes, they matched, the gem and the chain, perfectly. I walked to the kitchen door and searched for Taco with the necklaces in hand, running my fingers over them. "Thank you, Taco, and now I have yet another mystery to solve", I whispered. A loud purr made me jump, I turned and there was Miss Kitty begging for a treat. This mystery will have to wait, as I attend to the living.