By Jeremy Arias
The fog cleared my route to the jogging path when I first noticed it. Its black fur shone with the morning sun as its green eyes pierced contact. It didn’t bother to display sharpened teeth or threaten me with a growl. It watched me with its wicked eyes as I walked by.
I’m not the superstitious type. I don’t get nervous when I walk under ladders. The only threat from a broken mirror is its cutting edge. Salt is bad for you, and when you spill it, you make a mess. The country did enter a national emergency on Friday the 13th, but the occupant knew about the virus since January, so that doesn’t count.
I walked by the black cat thinking twice about superstition. What if black cats could also give us good luck, but only choose to curse the superstitious scaredy cats? Why aren't there any have a good day cats that you can walk by without questioning your existence?
A couple blocks later, I was climbing up a hill and a well groomed dog with a fat brown coat trotted down the street, jingling it’s leather collar. It stopped to sniff the weeds and inspect a Hot Cheeto’s bag with its bulgy black snout.
What a nice dog, I bet you belong to someone, I thought as I kept climbing and crossed the street over to the next block. As I passed the Jack in the Box, I noticed a flyer stapled to a telephone pole.
“MISSING!” The top of the page hollered. Right under it was a picture of a happy, well groomed dog with a fat brown coat and a leather collar. “Her name is Millie, her owner is sick with heart disease. REWARD $1000!”
It was the cat! I thought as I took a picture of the poster with my phone and sprinted back to the hill where I saw the dog.
In a matter of minutes, Millie had vanished without a trace. I kept my ear open for that jingling collar. She couldn’t have gone that far. A few scans of the area led me to an alley where a mariachi group played festive songs to a cheerful crowd. It was a dead end so full of life.
Nobody wins today, except the cat and the mariachi.
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