Ire and the Bad Neighbors

22^nd October 2014

Dear Cassi,

       

I have named the kitten Ire for her early temperament thou I must admit she has become rather playful and well behaved in the last few days. She has spent much time on my shoulder even sitting quietly as I filmed a video.

       

Ire’s testament to the poor nature of my neighbors has become more pronounced as she takes on proper nutrition. The wound on her right front paw nearly cuts her foot clean in two, and I can clearly see the shreds of flesh that make the exit wound between her toes.

She stumbles on the foot every now and then but acts as if this is a bother rather than a true wound. I spoke to the man across the street, and he insists it was an animal attack, but that would have led to infection and how would it have an entry and exit?

That fellow has confided in me that he has a stray cat buried under every rose bush and that he “discouraged” these animals with a pellet gun before finishing them off with a .22 caliber rifle.  I guess you could say I live amongst monsters, but I’ve known that since I was in my 20s.

I would remind you that in 1990 my mother died, and Yule, the old man who calls himself my parent, never took it on himself to live with and look after his children. I didn’t think of it at the time but leaving a ten year old in the care of a 14 year old mental patient can’t be legal.

Should it be legal for the neighbors to ignore this condition? Surely they noticed that there wasn’t a car in that driveway five nights a week. Further, how old should I have been before this ceased to be child abuse? Should I look at all that lived around me when I was 14 as guilty of this criminal negligence?  I can’t answer these questions, but then I have a kitten to look after.

Keep your eyes open, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

He Let the Cat Out

16^th October 2014

Dear Cassi,

       

I came home today to find the kitten had been removed from the cat carrier and was roaming about my writing desk getting cat tracks on everything. Pickle explained that he animal had been making noise.

He also called Pony Girl and said the he knew I would get violent when I came home. He sent me a text about letting the cat out so it could be with its mother which was apparently roaming the house.

What can I say, I live with crazy.

The kitten has a wound on its right front paw that goes through the foot. Entry wound on the top and exit on the bottom. It looks like this animal was shot with a pellet gun. It looks like she ran into the house or was carried by her mother due to this injury. My neighbors at it again.

In any case, she is now permitting me to handle her. She didn’t run when I came in the door and I just picked her up and held her. She is a cuddly little thing once she calms down.  

Pickle on the other hand told me that Pony Girl asked him to come to her house to get away from me. That’s Pony Girl for you. She propagates any bull that makes me look bad.

Well, I’m going to go snuggle with that kitten to make me feel better.

Find the good points, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

The Kitten in the Couch

15^th October 2014

Dear Cassi,

Wrap your head around the idea that a man wanted to be a veterinarian until he lost his site as result of gang violence. One of the fellows who lives across the street from me is in such a way and so when I found a kitten in my living room I had a strange hankering to have him hold the animal.

       

As I came home on the 14^th I was greeted by the crybaby mentality of one of my neighbors regarding the cats that live on my street and their tendency to defecate on lawns. If a cat leaves you a present on your lawn then you should be happy that it’s keeping the rats down.

In any case, I was greeted by a neighbor complaining over my feeding a handful of strays that frequent the area, and his seeing one with two or three kittens. As I approached my door I heard the faint sound of mewing but on checking my home found nothing.

       

It was later that day when I was roused by Pickle who said he heard a strange cat in the living room and on my entry I saw a little gray head looking back at me from the ruins of the couch.

On my approach the animal retreated into the depth of the cushions finding its way down under the furnishing. I made to dig the kitten free only to find that it ran, and made its way behind the piano. From there it ran back to the couch and from couch back to piano. Finally, the animal became fixed in place behind an old framed poster belonging to Pickles.

       

From here I recovered the small animal that hissed at me profusely but gave little fight. I noted it to be a female and placed her in a cat carrier for the night with food and water.

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Two Days

20^th November 2015

Dear Cassi,

It was yesterday that I learned that the company would fight my unemployment benefits and yesterday that I drew four pages of comics. Then today that I drew another four. I ended my work four Issues away from being caught up on Random Street theater and nine issues away from being caught up on Jonny American.

The sun was gone from the sky and two of the remaining kittens, Bob Denver and

Nimh, slept on my drafting desk offering up another opportunity for a photograph. It came to me that the news of the fight had been great motivation, but I have been here before.  I’ve been to the place where I had everything under control and was a single page of drafting away from being caught up. Then I fell back into depression and had to start over.

Truth be told, it would be better to post late every day than to post everything now and be baron for another few days or weeks. The only real problem is that many of the comics I’ve drawn are Halloween themed and that was twenty days ago. Readers need a reason to come back every day and I want to give them that reason.

Still, I am so tired. I slept part of the day then woke and worked. I slept again leaving many of the hours of sunlight behind me. Two days of hard work when I should have had two weeks of hard work to bring things back to the now. I don’t know, Cassi, may be this art business just isn’t for me.

Well, midnight strikes and I have work to do, so, off I go again.

Stay safe, little sister,

Richard Leland Neal

Fuzzy Friday: Surprised Cat