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Chapter 58. Fire and Oil
During the approximately 10 months we had been relegated to the hamster section upstairs at Petco, there was a woman who routinely came to visit me and the cats we had for adoption.
Her name was Rachel K. She was in her mid-fifties, had bleached blonde hair, swarthy, lined skin and a slightly plump, post menopausal figure.
But, Rachel liked to think of herself as young and attractive.
Rachel often told me stories of how men adored and pursued her. Once, when returning from a trip to Israel she told me how some gentleman fell madly in love with and proposed marriage to her. She apparently left him pining away to return to her demanding job in New York.
Rachel dressed in designer clothes and had a brash, pushy way about her. She was the kind of woman who got what she wanted, when she wanted it. While I normally did not allow visitors to take cats out of our cages and hold them, I permitted Rachel to do so. Somehow it seemed easier to indulge her than oppose her. Rachel struck one as the kind of person who would quickly make trouble with little provocation. Beneath her smiles and amusing fantasy stories was more than a hint of meanness.
Rachel always talked about adopting a cat, but I hoped in her case, it was all talk. I was not keen on adopting a cat to her. Nor, did I know quite how I would reject her were she ever to actually desire a cat. Thankfully, the dilemma never came up.
By the time Rachel got through telling me about her latest romantic escapades (which I encouraged) and holding two or three cats, all thoughts of adopting would vanish.
I had only seen Rachel a couple of times since being moved from the second to the main floor at Petco. Both times I was too busy to indulge her penchant for storytelling, but I allowed her to briefly hold a cat or two. But, with the captive ear for her stories no longer available to her, Rachel did not hang around long.
During the year, 1999, since being moved to the main floor of Petco we had 565 adoptions -- a record for New Yorkers for Companion Animals. There was no time for BSer's, fantasy chasers and self-indulgent neurotics. Months went by and I didn't see Rachel K. at all. I forgot all about her.
Until, one Saturday afternoon, when returning to Petco from CACC with several rescued cats. From between dog food isles, Rachel K. ran up to me, face reddened with anger and a wild look in her eyes.
"There you are, Patty! I need to speak with you right now!"
A feeling of impending doom suddenly washed over me. Without Rachel telling me what was wrong, I already knew.
While I had been at CACC, I had left LJ in charge of adoptions at Petco.
LJ, whose one down side was overprotectiveness of the cats. Rachel Kaplan who was not a woman one could say "no" to.
Fire and oil.