I’ve been delivering our neighborhood's little newsletter door to door each month for quite a while now. My cat, Marzipan, follows me from house to house as I stuff, cram, wedge, etc., the blue piece of paper someplace visible on every porch. He seems to think keeping me company is his job as he rarely gets distracted or ventures off the route until the task is complete.
Once I heard a woman’s voice behind me call out, “Marz’s mom! Marz’s mom!” I turned to find my neighbor approaching me from across the street. “Are you calling me?” I asked. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name.”
Note to self: She forgot my name, but remembered my cat’s.
Another time, a woman called out to me from her porch, “Oh! Does Marzipan follow you, too?” I nodded that he did. “He lives in that second house at the top of the hill,” she said, not knowing I lived there too. “He’s so cute how he always follows me to 7-11 whenever I walk there!”
Note to self: Him walking with me along my route is nothing special. He walks with anybody, anywhere.
One warm summer evening I lost him mid route. I was concerned and stayed on the front porch late into the night waiting for him to return. Around midnight, my roommate observed a car drive slowly up our street, stop, go back, stop again, go forward, finally rolling down the car window to ask if he knew where <insert our address> is. “That’s here. Can I help you?” said my roommate. “Do you know a black cat?” asked the man. In the back seat of this stranger’s car sat Marzipan, calm but with a slight look of disdain.
Note to self: Marzipan knows how to hitch hike.
Last month, I heard a woman bellow from half a block away, “Marzipan! Get out of the street!” When she got to where we stood (not in the street) she explained Marz was always in their backyard when they have parties. I began to apologize when she interrupted me to add that, as he’s such a regular guest, they've given him his own cushion to sit on.
Note to self: Marzipan has more of a social life than I do.
Most recently, a little girl walking with her dad spied Marzipan following me from door to door. “There’s Marzipan!” I heard her squeal with delight. Yep. You guessed it. Marzipan often joins her in their backyard, the dad explained, and is content to just curl up on her lap and purr.
I wonder who I’ll meet next month, thanks to my too-gregarious cat, Marzipan?
Written by: Marz’ Mom, Nov 2011
