Category Archives: Back when

Back in college, Greg and I always went to Mass on Sunday evening. We usually parted ways afterward to eat dinner and tackle homework. But one night after we had been dating a month or two, I complained about the empty cupboards in my apartment. No more frozen dinners and baby carrots, I protested!
“Come to my place. I’ll make you dinner!” Greg said, a little bounce in his step as we walked back to the car. I agreed, envisioning a spaghetti dinner with garlic bread or some chicken with barbecue sauce, something manly but good.
When we got into his apartment, Greg stepped into the pantry and proudly held up two containers. Kraft macaroni and cheese and Bush’s baked beans.
My smile drooped.
“Macaroni and cheese?” I asked, unable to stifle my disappointment. “I have macaroni and cheese back at my apartment.”
That was the first time I saw Greg look truly sad. (I should note that Greg is the youngest child in his family. When he’s sad or doesn’t get his way, he puts on the cutest, poutiest face you have ever seen. It’s like he reverts to playing the role of the darling, innocent little kid. As an oldest child, I know this is a classic trick of the youngest child.)
“Have you ever had macaroni with baked beans?” he asked.
“No, and I don’t think I want to.”
“Just try it, it’s really good.”
Greg pulled pans from the cupboard with a clang and got to work. He had been so proud to make dinner for me. I had ruined it and totally deflated him. He would probably never cook for me again. Maybe he wouldn’t even see me again.
He dished up the concoction on the hand-painted pasta plates he had purchased on sale at Sam’s. He was very proud of the plates. I ogled the plates as if they were made of gold, hoping we could move past my earlier mistake.
I ended up liking the mac and beans. We still eat them on occasion. And whatever crack I caused in our relationship must have been sealed with the cheesy, gooey goodness.

We called him November. He was the pebble in our pond. Without him, we wouldn’t have gotten Winston. He is what started this whole mess and left us with two pets in a death struggle for control of the leftovers. November came to us one cold day in the month of, you guessed it, November. He was no more than a kitten at the time. This is his story:

Sarah called me one Saturday afternoon just as I stepped out of the shower after Tae Kwon Do. She was frantic about this cat under her car that wouldn’t move and was causing her to be late. Sarah does not like to be late, ever. Nor does she enjoy running over cats. Hence, the dilemna that made me get dressed quickly and run over to coax the cat out. When I got there, he had his paws wrapped around the right front wheel and was rolling on his back. For a species known for being scared, he seemed to be the oddball fearless one.

I stuck my hand underneath and he tried to play with it. By quickly moving my hand back and forth I got him to come out and go clear of the car. Sarah got in and sped off. The cat, however, did not speed off. He followed me back to my house, and since he didn’t have any tags, I decided to bring him in. I gave him a dish of milk. He quickly lapped it up and then started running around. I played with him, or rather, he played with me for the next two hours until Sarah got home. At which time, I went to the grocery store and got some supplies. I took some pictures of him and made a sign on the computer which read:

Found: Cat. Small. Gray. Possibly kitten.

We put five of our somewhat ignorant posters (possibly? come on) around the neighborhood and then went back to my place to watch a movie. November curled up right between us during the movie and appeared to be watching the whole thing with us. It was extremely endearing.

That night I took him to my bedroom to sleep. But after he pounced on my feet, digging his claws into my bare flesh, for the fifth time, I banished him to another room. There was a lot of crashing and knocking coming from there most of the night, but it in the morning nothing was broken.

His owners came the very next day. One day was all we had with him, but it raised a longing that needed to be quenched. We wanted to have a creature like November that would play with us, curl up on our laps, take an interest in what we liked, and generally make our lives better. Two months later Sarah came home with Winston.

Winston is not like November.