la vieja loca con los gatos

Huss had a taste for vole spleen and Tibb for starling head but Ted would bring her robins, live, and wait for her in bed. El Blanco would howl and pace with his good ear cocked to the sky; The Slimp, she'd sneak away, like Tempest did when she died. FatSister and SmallCat licked themselves bald when they weren't up on her lap. The stray Tom always got his food before she laid down for her nap. On senior citizen discount day I'd see her pushing her cart filled to the brim with chicken, for Chaddie, who had a bad heart. She never played bingo or took a golf lesson; she steered clear of church-- her cats, her obsession.