A friend of Ed’s, Dotty, with whom he shared Fridays volunteering at the Chamber of Commerce, died about six weeks ago from terminal cancer. She was a sweet lady and we enjoyed talking with her. She had a cat, Toots, a black fellow who looks almost exactly like my Chewy. We tried to find a home for him but no luck. The faux daughter-in-law, who had been taking care of Dotty, is on her way back to Indiana tomorrow. She had promised Dotty she wouldn’t put Toots in a shelter, so we went and got him and, presumably, will get another home for him soon. Or, I am guessing, wind up keeping him. Oh, the work.

We brought him home and I was slowly going to introduce him to the household. I took the carrier into the spare bathroom, put down a bowl of water, closed the door, took him out of the carrier. Then Ed opened the door and the cat was history. That was an hour ago. Chewy chased him with hisses. Brunswick, in these situations, just cautiously watches. He doesn’t hate other cats. He’s thinking, well, am I going to get a playmate or what? Well, Toots has found a hiding place and I can’t find him. I am warning Ed not to open any outside doors. The last thing I need is for Dotty’s ghost to haunt me because I have lost her cat to the great outdoors. More on this as time wears on. Since Toots is so much like Chewy and since having Chewy is like having 3 cats instead of one, I am not encouraged that life will be simple in the cleaning department.

My neighbor’s girlfriend was around today (they have another house she stays in). She is quite ill and, at 46, looks like 60, because of her pancreatic cancer and it took them two years to diagnose what was wrong during which she was in agony and went way downhill. She is now on the appropriate medication, had a hysterectomy, and the prognosis is hopeful. But it has been my experience that abdominal malignancies are the worst. I want her to beat it. She was really lovely before this all got hold of her. Now she weighs 109 lbs. (she’s tallish.

A couple of years ago another neighbor’s girlfriend, Tamara, left his domain in a huff because he wasn’t attentive enough. Island Girl and I helped her pack. Then a month later she and Peter, said neighbor, were dating and they got married, throwing his grown daughter into a frenzy because she hated Tamara. We were all laying bets on how long they’d stay together. Well the other day, the girlfriend, now wife, got some guy to help her pack, and she left with her young son and their dog. My other neighbor, Terry, who is now living in Island Girl’s former rental, told me Peter was so dour and withholding that T got fed up. Also, T was working long hours as a decorator of houses and not living free, so to speak. Peter insisted she pay for groceries (he’s a trust fund guy and has plenty) because she and her son were, as he put it, “eating way more” than him. Yet I was noticing a few months ago how porky he’d gotten and figured Tamara was feeding him really well. There was a pre-nup, but T is not getting much, Terry told me.

Terry now tells me Tamara is looking to buy a house in Fort Myers somewhat close to her son’s school. This time I don’t think she’ll be back. And Peter can go back to eating take-out and maybe even slim down. He doesn’t seem upset. (I am remembering the post Jeri (elderjane) wrote about a men’s magazine article discussing how devastating a break-up can be. I don’t think they wrote that piece for Peter.)

Lila and a colleague, Olga, my fashion maven friends from New York, were in town and took us to dinner on the company at Bacchus, a delightful place at the Bell Tower mall in Fort Myers. Really nice mall – landscaped and upscale stores and restaurants – it’s become a social hub. I had paella and Ed had rack of lamb. We split a dessert. The next morning (they spent the night – the company doesn’t mind the dinner because they save on the hotel bill) it was breakfast at Mulletville and I had a pancake. The order was for one pancake but the cook went nuts and the waitress brought three. I took the other two home and Ed had them later. And last night we had Chinese. So what this has meant for me is two pounds and I have to work it off all week.

Leeann, my pal from down by the big road, has moved to Pine Island, a rural area, to save on rent. I joined her and her sisters for an evening last week and she served me wine in a cup, so yesterday I bought her four wine glasses as a housewarming present and will take them to her. Her on-and-off boyfriend, whom she really wanted, has finally settled in and is thinking of selling his boat that he was living on, except on really cold nights, he would mooch off of friends. But now she tells me she doesn’t want him any more and agrees with assessments from me and others that he is not so wholesome. I told her to gently suggest that “gee, that’s such a great boat, don’t sell it,” the thought being that it will be easier to push him out the door if he still has his boat to crash on.

That’s my news from Peyton Place.

Toots, where the hell are you?
Xx, Teal