Slim Randles
Let’s ask a hypothetical question here. Would you (if you’re an adult already) trade your reputation as a responsible wage earner for the guarantee of becoming legendary?
Well, I’d like to tell you about Old Man Jenkins. He was friendly but kinda mysterious. You know … as if anything he did or said or became before he came here just wasn’t any of our business. We didn’t even know his first name until he died. Then somebody looked it up. Old Jenkins lived in a cabin he built. “Back up in the hills,” he said. We haven’t even found it yet.
He’d make leather stuff and bring it to town and either sell it here, or mail it off to people. He’d maybe come to town four times a year. So what do you do when you
are mailing leather and avoiding people’s questions? Well, you could become a legend. And Jenkins did just that.
He liked cats, and he’d always load up with a store-bought bag of cat treats and started teaching our cats to jump. He’d start by scrunching a cat against his shins, then block the escape route with his hands. The only way out was to jump his hands … and they did.
Every time they jumped, Jenkins gave them a cat treat. He started in on strays, then moved on to gentle house cats owned by old ladies. First thing you know, he had all but one cat in town happily jumping for a treat. Sometimes they just jumped for fun.
The only cat that failed was that three-legged cat of the Garcia family. Named Tripod, of course. Well, old Tri gave it his best, but having just one hind leg didn’t get the job done. But he got a treat for trying, anyway.
Old Man Jenkins died on one of his trips to town, and no one has ever found his cabin. But that’s okay. Maybe legendary status is reward enough. It’s the American Way.
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Train your cat to use your toilet? Why not? www.catsspraynomore.dcle.org. Let us know how it goes.
