Parker In The Park

          In the summer, I took my children to the park.  It was hours of play, topped off with a picnic lunch.  Those many years back were fun.  The years went by and the children grew up.  The three girls moved away, but the son remained.  He was too old to spend a day with me playing at the park.  But as the years had changed things, the park itself had changed too.  Our favorite park had its play area for small children with newer updated equipment.  It had its ball fields with fences.  It had its tennis courts.  But new to the area was a disc golf course put in for adults.  Through the woods the baskets for the game were displayed.  And now, I would sometimes go with my son to play a game of disc golf.  But mostly; he went with friends.
          It seems like there are stray cats everywhere. We saw one even there.  She was wild no doubt; but yet came close enough begging for food.  We found ourselves taking some cat food with us on our trips to the park.  The cat had the whole woods to hunt.  It was obvious it knew how to find food.  But the added treats seemed welcome.  And then one day as we were leaving, a car came driving up fast.  A male passenger got out of the car and headed for the cat.  He opened a can of food and the cat began eating immediately.  I took the opportunity to walk over and start a conversation with him.
          “I see you’re feeding the cat,” I said. “We’ve been feeding it too.  I feed many strays already.”
          He seemed kind of short with me.  I could tell he did not want to talk to me.
          He came back with a response, “If you’re feeding many cats, you need to call someone and get them picked up.  This is the golfers’ cat.  We have been feeding her for two years.”  He continued.  “Do you see her left ear?  It is clipped.  We had Baby fixed so she would not have any kittens.  We’re taking care of her.  We don’t need you feeding her.”
          I had not seen that cat in the two years until then.  But at the disc golf course again, I found another gentlemen with whom I brought up the cat in conversation.
          “Her name is Baby and we have been feeding her for four years.”
          “Four years,” I asked, “I’m confused!  That man I talked to the other day said two years.”
          “Don’t listen to him.  He doesn’t like any of us taking care of the cat, but him.”  He laughed, “Her name is really Baby and she follows the golfers around as they play.  She doesn’t really belong to anybody. A cat is a very independent animal.  So whatever you do, do not try to pick her up.  She’ll tear you apart.”
          They couldn’t pick her up.  She was probably trapped some way to get spayed.  I had played golf myself on that course making me a golfer.

Since I am part owner of a cat in the park, I gave her the last name Parker.  It made it easier for me to talk about her.  People, in many cases, don't stay regular on what they do.  A neighbor next door puts out food on her front porch now and then.  She never stays regular with it.  A cat becomes dependent on the food.  So, how can anyone just stop the feeding when they start?  I realize a day of feeding by even the golfers may be missed.  I take cat food with me when going to the park.  I carry food in case I see a stray anywhere.  The one golfer said she was the golfers' cat.  Because these golfers never saw me on the course before does not mean I haven't played my game when they weren't there.  As a golfer, I do see Baby Parker as mine too.