Cats

My next door neighbor is Mrs. Katz. She is in her seventies and stays home most of the day. When we cross paths, she usually asks me what's the weather like outside? Neither of us can see the sky from our apartments. Sunlight trickles in around the edges of the windows, but sometimes it's deceptive. While walking my dog, I met Mrs. Katz six months ago. "Does he bark?" she queried, a little testy. I assured her that he is a very good dog. "Good," she continued, "I like dogs. But I can't stand cats. Just can't stand them." "But your name is Katz!" I teased. "I know," she said, breaking into a mischievous smile, "Funny isn't it? Just can't stand cats!"