I Have a Soft Spot for Strays

Ten years ago I moved an interesting woman in with our family. I’ll call her K. 

I’m very attracted to crazy energy; my theory is that these people

 vibrate at the same frequency as my mom and it’s somehow comforting to me.  

It was supposed to be a pit-stop while she waited for an apartment 

to become available, two weeks tops. 

Two weeks dragged on and soon we reached five weeks with K. 

Those five weeks were filled with all kinds of interesting moments.

Salmon was frequently left out. Our dogs quite appreciated

 the pungent aroma wafting through the house; 

it was reminiscent of the docks at San Pedro. 

K had decided a device that she called “a molecular disrupter” would help with her 

physical ailments. It was a small, square, electronic box with a knob on the top that 

was attached to a needle that you could turn up or down. 

In order to use “the molecular disrupter” one needed to wrap foil on their feet, or 

sometimes the foil was wrapped around the crown of the head.

 I never quite figured out what the different placement of the foil was all about. 

K had many routines. One of these routines was to brush her body when she woke in 

the morning and before she went to bed at night. 

One morning she swept off a ‘spot’ while brushing her skin. 

She was convinced this ‘spot’ was a tick. 

In a panic, K insisted I rush her to the entomology department at

UC-Riverside to have the offending ‘spot’ identified. 

I’m not even kidding here…it was a bread crumb.  

K felt our family life was so “Leave it to Beaver-ish” that she entered our name

-unbeknownst to us-

for the Trading Spaces reality tv show. 

We didn’t make the cut. 

Pete and Jayne eventually gave me an ultimatum, “Either she goes or we go.” 

I think they meant it. 

I pushed as aggressively as I could for her to find a place…and she did.

When moving day came I was surprised to see her lying on our sofa 

when I came downstairs in the morning.

 Something felt wrong.

If I were a dog (I spend a lot of time with dogs) the hair on the back of 

my neck would have stood on end. 

These were her words:  “I’m afraid I’ve gone blind. I can’t see.”

I sat. 

I thought.

 I didn't speak for a long while. 

Then, as though the Buddha came to intervene, I found the words. 

I drove K to her new place. 

The next day her eyesight miraculously returned. 

She came to retrieve her 1998 Volvo that was sitting in our driveway.

For years the oil stain that was left behind on the driveway was a reminder of 

how patient my family is with me and my idiosyncrasies. 

They love me through every adventure that I drag them through…

that’s the only birthday gift I need!