Good bye my friend

Travis, with book as posted on website for author, Janet Evanovich.

Travis, my muse, my cat, my baby, my friend, passed away a few months ago.  I could not write until now.

Travis was the star of my cat tales, providing me ideas and always supplying the antics to create my smiles.  He was a never ending bundle of energy, but as he became older he became a house cat, which truly made me happy. No more dead birds, no more jumping 15 feet to the lower roof, and no more pollens in his fur. He still jumped from the planter to whatever piece of furniture he chose, still ran from room to room and still adored looking outside from his perch.

The last few month had Travis slowing down. His appetite was disappearing and he just wanted to be held.  The hardest part was listening to him. After eating, he howled. I'm not sure if it was from pain, or want of something different, but the  howling was loud and mournful.

Then he started losing weight.  His long hair hid it well, and he still looked beautiful, but Travis was getting thin.  Finally he could not hold his own weight. He dragged himself from room to room.  It was a Sunday and we decided to bring him to the doctor the next day.

I could not sleep. I lay on the floor next to my Trav, hoping for a miracle.  He moved to the kitchen, I crawled along with him, keeping my hand on his soft, warm back.  He then crawled his way into my bedroom under my bed, letting me know that he needed some alone time.  I climbed onto my bed and slept fitfully for the next two hours hoping that we will still have a cat in the morning. 

Five o'clock came quickly and the vet did not open until eight that morning.  I called at 8, hoping that I would be told to bring him right in.  "The doctor will not be there until ten, can you bring him in then?" was the response I got.  Travis and I settled on the couch for the morning, just waiting and sitting as comfortably as he can.

The vet loved Travis and spoke to him with concern in his voice.  Travis, as usual, just sat for the attention, taking it all in. The doctor took blood and returned in a few minutes.  His blood count was all wrong and even if we gave him a full transfusion there are no indicators as to what is causing the problem and whatever he has may just move onto the new blood. There is nothing he could do for Travis. 

With tears is our eyes, we said our goodbyes to the best cat we have ever owned.  Butch could not stay, but I held Travis tight as I could as the needle was plunged into his skin. Travis closed his eyes less than two seconds later on September 28th at 10:15 in the morning, and my baby was gone.

Travis was a true politician, giving time to both of us before settling to my side each evening.  He knew how to get what he wanted and who would satisfy his needs of the moment.  King of the neighborhood, king of  our home and most importantly, Travis was king of his own world, and that is what was most important to me.

I love you to the moon and back

I believe in happily ever after, happy endings and so much more taught by the movies, fairy tales and Disney.  I am a true romantic, with a touch of cynicism.

I read "Great Aunt Sophia's Lessons for Bombshells" by Lisa Cach (Gallery Books, 2012) and would like to quote a life's lesson for those in love:

(p 295, Sophia) "God help me. Did you ever tell that girl that you loved her?" (p 295, Declan) "No, of course not. I... I didn't know I loved her. But she's never hinted that the feelings might be returned." (p 295, Sophia) "Forgive me for being a senile old woman hopelessly behind the times, but are the ways of women so different now that it is now their job to declare their affections first?"

(p 304, Grace) "What are you doing here?" (p 304, Declan) "I'm dancing with the woman I love." (p 304, Grace) "Don't tease me." (p 304, Declan) "I've never been more serious. Grace Cavanaugh, I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being, and going through life without you would be dying a new death every day that I wake up without you beside me. I love you," he said sweeping her into a dizzying spin. "I love you, Grace. I love you."

The story continues as he asks her to marry him, she says yes, and the dramatic (p 305, Declan) "My Grace," he whispered, and she heard the crack of emotion in his voice. He stopped, and wrapped her in his arms, bending her backward and kissing her thoroughly as the crowd erupted in cheers.

While this may be a bit over the top, the general feeling of being the most important person to the one you love, provides the dramatic feeling of hope, love ever after, and this can happen to anyone.  As I marry the many couples who come to me, I wish for them the fairy tale ending that we all deserve.... and the sappiness that comes with a great love story.

Great Aunt Sophia's Lessons may not be Gone with the Wind, but what a fun read.... happy endings are all they are cracked up to be.

Back to George Savicky, Constable

I thought about the collection last week.  I walked into the law offices of Fred Plimpton and walk out with a check for $5500.  The secretary didn't even blink when I showed her my badge and explained that Mr. Plimpton owed back property taxes. She asked if she could give me a company check.  I shrugged and said sure, "Money is money." She smiled, apologized for making me come out and wrote a check for the full amount.  She said that the money would come out of petty cash, "wow," I whispered under my breath, "I wish I had that kind of petty cash."  I looked forward to my 15%, thinking $825 isn't bad for fifteen minutes of work.

I delivered the check to the tax office at Town Hall, but there were no new collections waiting in my mail box.  I went home to catch up on the paperwork of the unfinished cases.  I sat at my desk to review the open files.  I still have four outstanding collections.

Gracie, the young owner of the boutique on Main Street, is almost finished with her payments.  She only owed $1200, and has been paying $100 every Friday.  Looking over the file, I realized that after tomorrow's collection I should check in with Kaye at Town Hall for a final payment amount.  I should be able to drop off the last check next week, if Gracie pays tomorrow.  The three months went by so quickly, I'm going to miss visiting with her each week, Gracie is such a cute girl. I hope she survives this economy. A small clothing business, especially for such a targeted market is difficult in a good economy, but the odds are against her in this type of downturn.  A young women's boutique, with bright colored clothing, flashy shoes and jewelry galore. She has a good head on her shoulders so hopefully she will be able to make a decent living and come out successful as the times get better.

The more difficult case in the file is the property tax collection from Alfred Stottlemeyer.  Alfred owes on his trailer and is living on a disability check he receives the third of every month.  He expects me to drive to his trailer parked at the outskirts of Danfield after the third of every month for a $100 check. The trip to his home, back to the tax collector and the cost of gas almost negates the effort to collect. With a $9000 total and 1.5% added back each month, Stottlemeyer will never catch up with his taxes.  Last month he gave me an extra check to pay his current taxes. He said that I was going to Town Hall anyway, and that it is difficult for him to get around. The tax collector actually refused his check, stating that he had to pay by money order due to unpaid back taxes.  I just shook my head. Here I am to drop off an Alfred Stottlemeyer check, and the tax collector refuses an Alfred Stottlemeyer check.  Now, who am I to judge?

The next case, The Laundromat, is an interesting case . I remember stopping by the first week and to talk to the manager, returning the next afternoon to talk with the owner.  The owner, Jose Miguel, claimed he did not owe any taxes since he just bought the business.  I explained that he bought a business with taxes due on the equipment and his lawyer should have straightened out the tax mess before the closing.  I explained that any questions should be through the tax assessor's office and provided the contact information.  I left him my business card and a promise to return for money on Saturday of that week.  At least the payments are coming in regularly now. The amount due will continue to increase with the 1.5% each month, and with the additional arguments that the sister-in-law,  a partner in the business, should also be paying have somewhat subsided since I repeatedly explained that his name is on the warrant.  I stop by the first Saturday of each month to collect $500 of the $5600 tax bill.

The best of the ongoing receipts is my newest case with a $8400 balance.  After the first visit, which was actually held at a stairwell in a building on the west side of Town.  I am receiving $500 every two weeks by mail.  Brad Jackson was just leaving his office the day I stopped by with the warrant for the condo complex water tax.  After receiving the explanation with the hard copy warrant, Brad asked that I not stop by the office for any reason.  Saving gas money seems an added bonus, and the money is coming regularly.  I do not have to see Jackson again until I have to explain that he still owes a certain amount due to the 1.5% interest accruing each month.

Enough paperwork for now as the saga continues.

30 minutes to no show... and "I do"

I answered the phone on a Saturday afternoon to a mumbled, "Are you a JP?" I quickly answered him and explained how the process works. I added that he must get a license from Danfield if the ceremony will be in Danfield, that we can perform the ceremony anywhere he would like it.  I also explained that he should call the Town Clerk's office to make sure that someone was there to sign his license when he and his fiance apply. He asked for the phone number and I explained I was not in my office and would call him back. I took his name, Jeffrey, and asked his fiance's name.  He said "Mine."

Shaking my head, I puzzled over the strange conversation and decided to follow through, hoping it was someone who truly want to be married. 

Later that evening, I called Jeffrey back and he said, "Didn't I just talk to you?" I answered no and that I was calling to provide the phone number as promised this morning.  I asked if they would be exchanging rings and he answered that he was not sure, he would talk to "her."  At this point, we made arrangements to meet at City Hall when he gets the license, with the ceremony at 9:00 am on Tuesday. 

I get a second call on Monday afternoon. Jeffrey got the license and I asked where he would like to hold the ceremony, again with confusion in his voice he said my house, providing the address. He added that he would meet me in the  drug store parking lot next to his home at noon. Hmmmm, should I be worried at this point? He also said they would not be exchanging rings yet.

I decided this was the time to call in reinforcements and after I hung up the phone went in search of my husband/bodyguard.  I explained what has transpired so far and asked for a ride to Shady Road for the next day at noon if he has the time.  Agreeing that the wedding was not as concrete as my usual events, George, also a constable for the City of Danfield, promised to go with me.

Tuesday was hot and humid. Packing my robe, the Certificate of Marriage and the program designed specifically for Jeffrey and Mine, hoping that this was her name, we drove to the drug store.  We arrived at 11:50 am and sat in the car with the air conditioning on.  George turned to me, "Are you sure this is where you are supposed to be?" Nobody resembling a groom, or even a semblance of a couple appeared.  I got out of the car, keeping my robe over my arm as a hint that I am a JP. Nothing, with no one questioning me, acknowledging me or even noticing me.

At noon I decided to walk around the corner to the apartments next door, to see if anyone was there waiting for me.  George followed in the car, with the air conditioning on.  I found the apartment, and the only moving creature was a beautiful gray cat, scratching at the window every time I knocked.  I returned to the car, we waited for 5 minutes and I explained that he vaguely said between noon and 12:30 pm.  We went back to the parking lot to people watch and that, in itself, was quite entertaining. 

At 12:30, we drove around the corner and someone was sitting outside the apartment.  I smiled as I went up to a woman in shorts, flip flops, a bright pink T-shirt and ratty, not quite clean blond hair.  Explaining who I was, I asked about Jeffrey. "Yes, he lives here but I don't know where he is. I'll call him but he never answers his phone."

She turned to me seconds later and said the phone went directly to voice mail.  We discussed the wedding and she acknowledged that Jeffrey was planning to get married today, but she did not know where or when.  She added that she has his fiance's phone number but not on her.  I asked if she thought they may have gone to City Hall since Jeffrey mentioned it so much on Saturday.  She said maybe.......

I went back to the car and asked George to stop by City Hall.  He thought this was a stupid waste of my time, but I wanted to know what happened.  Two minutes later, I stopped at the information desk and asked if there was a couple waiting here at all this afternoon, or actually at noon.  He said yes and that Jennie came down and performed the ceremony. The couple may still be outside.

I stormed out the door and ran to the side of the building. I met a white man about 80 or so and two black women in their 50s or early 60s.  I confronted the man, asking if he was Jeffrey.  He said yes and I immediately let him know that I was waiting at his home as instructed.  He said the JP told him to come to City Hall.

From what I could gather from our short discussion, he was talking to two JPs, sometimes within minutes of each other.  Another interesting 30 minutes before I Do, but I did not get to listen to those beautiful words.  This day consisted of 45 minutes, and I refused to part with my Certificate of Marriage created for the couple and I still do not know if her name is Mine.

And now the weddings...

I sat in the car and watched three gentlemen dressed in suits, pink bow ties and black converse sneakers walk by. They were headed toward the elaborate venue surrounded by three fountains, two gazebos, an expanse of green grass and multiple varieties of colorful flowers.  The Winds is the location of the wedding I will be performing in 30 minutes.

Two more similarly clad young men strolled by, one carrying a baby.  I decided it is time to join the crowd and confirm the marriage license is complete and all details are within the proper time allotment.  I walked up to the knot of black suits and asked to speak with Tim. Tim and I have been communicating by email and phone for the past week.

He called in a panic on Sunday at 9 pm, his JP had canceled and the wedding is scheduled for Friday the 13th in Brandon, an hour and 15 minutes away.  I was recommended by his friend and my cousin, Peter. I agreed to do the ceremony explaining that I would have to charge for the extra mileage. He gratefully accepted and he spelled out the details. I put together a draft and emailed it an hour later providing the couple time to review and make changes to the words that will change their lives, during the week.

Today is Friday, wedding day, and I was directed to Tim, a good looking young man with a beer in his hand. I asked for the license and he looked startled. He quickly regained his composure and said Melissa has it.  Knowing that the bride was not yet there, I went to the lobby to wait for the limo carrying the girls. 

The limo pulled up and the groom's dad runs to greet them. Come to find out, they had his suit.  I waited inside for the bride and as she was preparing to go upstairs  I asked her for the license.  A look of horror flitted across her face as she replied that Tim has it. I quickly apologised and said, "I will find Tim."

I returned to the garden to look for the groom.  Tim and his groomsmen were in the garden, along with two month old Ben, in his tuxedo onesie.  The baby, as part of the wedding party, just slept.  Tim turned to me and said, "The license is with my passports, in my suitcase, locked in the hotel room."  I let him know that we cannot perform the ceremony without the license in hand.  "Oh, I understand," he replied, "My dad just went to get it. The hotel is just across the street."

The next update included a report that the security lock on the hotel door fell into place as the groom slammed the door as he left the room. "It's on the way," he states again.  I went back to the lobby and Jeff, the wedding planner handed my two pink gerber daisies.  He asked that I have the new bride and groom give the flowers to the moms. I smiled and said, "sure, how sweet."

I returned to the men, waiting for the license so the ceremony could begin. The latest news is that the door is being taken off the hinges to allow someone to grab the license. The groom reassured me that the hotel was just across the street and that we can begin momentarily. 

By this point Jeff has brought the groomsmen each a scotch and a bucket of beer to use as a chasers. as the clouds came rolling in.  The license arrived, the ceremony went smoothly, I escaped with license in hand, leaving another happily married couple behind.

after knocking at the door,

a young woman answers. I explain that I am looking for Paul Doyle and that I have a tax warrant.  She looks everywhere but at me and says she does not know Paul.  I know she is lying and explain the importance of my mission.  She then says, "but I don't even know you." I pull out my badge and say, "now you do!"  The young lady slammed the door in my face.

A new story

The day begins bright and warm. I am ready for a new challenge.  With a new badge and identification in hand, I have three warrants to serve as a constable.  Elected overwhelmingly this past fall, I am ready to do my duty and serve.

The problem is that I do not receive money until the tax warrants are paid up.  The three warrants I received are from non-payment of taxes for 3, 4 and 5 years. 

Optimistic as always, I'm ready to begin a new adventure.

First stop a deli. The name on the warrant is John Rodriguez.  I pull out my badge and walk in. The crowded aisles are heavily stocked, groceries piled high.  I ask for Mr. Rodriquez and was told he is no longer there, so I ask for the new owner.  Edward Gonzales, the gentleman said as he extends his hand in greeting.  I smile and introduce myself, George Savicky, Constable.