I cross the alley, six pack in hand, and glance to my right to check for kitty bodies laying immobile. I see only an amiable couple walking toward me. A mew then stops me dead in my tracks, ears piqued. Another, more yowl like noise and I do a 180 on the spot. A bell-jingles, and there's Billie, trotting to me, crying at me.
I drop my keys, wallet and beer into the grass and scoop her up, elated. The couple, now stopped to stare, congratulate me, having seen the 1 of the 25 posters I put up earlier. I gather myself, and carry her home loving, lecturing, and smothering her the whole way. It's true that this relationship with Billie IS my committed relationship.
To celebrate I drink the beer that caused my walk: New Belgium - 2 Below, and laugh at her as she indignantly cleans herself of the bath water I subjected her to.
Here's a picture of the silly cat, all washed up.