of grub shopping and a Seeing Eye Cat

Yesterday I went grub shopping at WallyWorld and it was miserable. I had a hard time getting my moneygram from the CVS I sometimes use so I went to WallyWorld to get the cash and then decided to shop while I was at it.




I was not in the best of moods, but remained civil until I saw a mother getting after her kid to make him behave. She did a good job of it and I stopped to compliment her on being a good parent and doing her job. Her face lit up, which happens. When I see someone doing a good job of parenting I compliment them.



About 5 minutes later I ran into some broad with a terrible kid that was letting out 'the screech'. The one that hits one's ears like an ice pick. I decided I wasn't going to hold it in and told her she was a lousy parent and she ought to get off her dead ass and onto her dying feet and discipine that damned kid.



She didn't like that very much and started to snap back at me to mind my own business and went agape when I told her that being forced to deal with a screeching little whelp WAS my business and to go and get sterilized so as not to make the same mistake twice and get her spawn from hell out of my earshot.



She said she wished her husband was here.



"So do I, Lady. Widowhood would look good on you....at least until the insurance money runs out."



"You belong in prison!" she snapped.



"Lady, I just got outta the joint and I'm on on parole. Twenty-five to llife for icing some mouthy broad's husband after she made him stick up for her. I don't like life on the outside very much. I wouldn't mind going back."



It took a minute to sink in but when it did, she left like a shot.



I turned and there was a guy looking at me and he smirked. I looked at him for a second and he said, "She DID have it coming. That screech the kid made was hideous. Thanks."



"Anytime," I replied.



I continued shopping and got to the dairy case and saw the straw that broke the camel's back.



In the seat of a shopping cart was a little fleabag of a dog, a sloppy little yappie wet-faced, drooling fleabag. He was wearing a vest that said "Emotional Assistance Dog" on it. I like to $hit. Has it gotten this far?



I turned to the woman behind me and quietly pointed it out. She was about my age and looked like she baked pies for the church, a real Barbara Billingsley type. The woman that raised Wally and the Beav.



She wandered up and took a look and returned to me. "You gotta be $hitting me," she said. "I don't believe it."



It surprised me to hear a woman like that say something like that, but I guess she was shocked to see an 'Emotional Assistance Dog'.



"Blame the Kumbaya crowd," I said. "If she can't leave that damned fleabag home for a couple of hours to go shopping than she ought to buy a pistol and one round and go somewhere and do the right thing!"



"Yes, she should," replied Barbara Billingsley.



"Tell you what I am going to do when I get my groceries home," I said to her. "I'm going to go home and put my cat on a leash and put on sunglasses and grab a white cane bring him to this zoo and call him a Seeing Eye Cat."



She laughed and asked, "How are you going to get away with that?"



"Simple. I'll blame it on Obamacare," I replied.



"That's rich," she replied. "I want to see that!"



"Be back here in a couple of hours," I replied.



"I live fifteen minutes away. Here's my cell number. Call me when you're 20 minutes out! I want my husband to see this, too!"



I finished my shopping. Of all the luck, the woman I had complimented on being a good mother was in front of me. She told me the other mother I had told off was a neighbor and that she had complained to her about my telling her she had awful kids.



I said that I was just telling it like it was and she turned soft and thanked me,and admitted that her neighbor didn't do a very good job of disciplining her kid. We parted on friendly terms.



Then I went home and and got squared away and grabbed Kyoto Kitty and put on his harness and took a brief walk in the yard and realized he hadn't been very well trained yet but decided that if the Army could press cooks, bakers and mechanics into duty as riflemen, I could take the cat with me and train him as we went along.



Two minutes later I was on my way and when I was 20 minutes out I called the Barbara Billingsley look alike woman and told her I was 20 minutes out.



I grabbed Kyoto Kitty and we got near the door and I got out my cane and with a quick flip unfolded it. This is a real cane and folds up with an elastic core which unfolds and locks it.



Then I put Kitty down and we headed for the door and of course, the cat didn't want to go in but a couple of gentle tugs on the leash changed his mind. In he went and he started leading me. He stopped to sniff the people greeter and she told me it was the first time she had ever seen a Seeing Eye Cat. Then she asked me why I didn't have a dog.



"Obamacare," I said, seriously. "Dogs are too expensive."



She looked shocked.



We moseyed past and headed straight for the deli and then went down past the meat counter. I peeked behind me and the Billingsley look-alike and her husband were behind me pushing an empty shopping cart.



We went past a Coca Cola end display and Kyoto Kitty jumped up and saw a hole where a case had been removed and wedged himself in there.



I started to try and play along and followed the leash and when I got to the cat I started to gently get him to come out. As I was doing this some do-gooder offered to help. This wasn't a person that was just being a nice guy, this was a professional do-gooder, the kind that treats everyone like a small child because they think they are smarter than everyone else.



'Hold this," I said, and handed her my cane.



Then I started digging the cat out, "Damned Obamacare! I ought to take you down to a Chinese restaurant and see if Chin Ho will give me three bucks a pound for you," I said to the cat.



The do-gooder looked horrorfied.



When I had dug Kyoto Kitty out, I reached out and she handed me my cane back and looked shaken.



I saw the Billingsleys trying not to wet their pants laughing.



I put the cat down and short leashed him and we ambled over out of grocery to the place where they sell cell phones and asked the guy there if they made smartphones in Braille yet. He had sold me my present phone a few months ago and recognized me. He smirked and quietly under his breath told me he wasn't going to rat me out and showed me one with a keypad that had raised numbers.



I thanked him and left.



On the way out some little kid asked me it Kyoto Kitty was a real Seeing Eye Cat and I seriously told him it was. His mother asked why I had a cat instead of a dog. I told her to ask President Obama as Obamacare was his bright idea.



She asked me if I liked having a cat as a guide animal and I told her that if the cat keeps running me into posts I was going to take it to a Chinese restaurant and see if Chin Ho would give me three bucks a pound for him.



The woman didn't know whether to go into shock or laugh herself silly.



We moseyed toward the door, my anger over the shopping trip had subsided and I was again in a good mood.



The Billingsleys were outside the door, laughing themselves silly and approached me and thanked me for making them laugh. He shook my hand and I blushed a bit and I started back to my pickup carrying Kyoto Kitty.



"Hey, you dropped something," shouted Mr. Billingsley and came running toward me.



When he got near me he quietly said, "My wife was just diagnosed with breast cancer. We caught it early and she's going in tomorrow. Thank you for making her laugh so hard. She needed it."



I was humbled.



I guess my lousy day really wasn't too lousy after all.


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