Last night I got a phone call from a woman I’ve known
forever maybe the last time we talked was 10 years ago
or more she began without the usual Long Time No See
and said I need your help with my computer. It’s not working.
Maybe she didn’t remember I don’t know one single thing
about my computer but I listened to her anyway because
many many years ago she left a 14 message on my old
answering machine which I saved for almost forever
telling a fantastic story about how her cat named
Nahum Goldman after the famous Nahum Goldman
almost committed suicide in a dramatic plunge in front
of A. and her husband off the top of a highboy. It wasn’t
just a jump she said. A suicide attempt. I wish I had saved
that message because you could hear it too. The cat survived.
Dog story. Counterpoint to a cat named Nahum Goldman. In my neighborhood there used to be a father and son team who fixed toaster ovens. They so admired my dedication to a 40 year old GE that they would fix it for free, the only charge being I had to listen to their stories. One story was about a client who had a dog name Bibi. He would come to them and say "Bibi, sit!" They were astonished that he had a do name after the new PM, Bibi Netanyahu. "No" he exclaimed. "The dog is BB, named after Bridget Bardot!"
You should stamp “No cats were hurt in the writing of this poem”