Fonzie with his new master Denis. And yes, Denis was vetted as thoroughly as he would have been if he had applied at the SPCA for a cat. And no, he is not taking Fonzie to an animal testing/torture lab.Today, I am having a garage sale. And the reason that I'm blogging during the middle of it is because I forgot to double check that the ad actually made it on to Craig's List. And, well, it didn't -- until this morning when I started wondering why business was so damned slow.
Anyway, as garage sales go, I have some decent stuff on offer: boxed sets of 24, tween girl lit, the Sexual Life of Catherine M., handcuffs, a complete set of Harry Potter until someone stole the last two books when I ran upstairs to do something else, a wicker picnic basket, attractive handbags, etc.
And then I have some of the stuff that I've failed to get rid of at garage sales past and wasn't quite ready to give away: an old-fashioned girl's costume from the Shaw Festival, ski boots, some framed flower prints and a framed Tom Thomson, also a print although I have been asked if it was an original.
The flower prints, a gift, are not now and never have been my style. While I still love the Group of Seven, the frame, which I had done ages ago, was a mistake from day one and always bothered me. At this point, all I wanted was to get rid of the pictures and take whatever I could get.
A guy expressed interest but balked at my prices. Remembering that my sale motto was "priced to sell" I finally settled on $20 for the three of them.
And then the guy's friend started admiring my much-despised cat, Fonzie.
"He's available too," I said.
"You're kidding," he said.
"No," I said. "We're moving."
"You wouldn't send him to the SPCA, to death row," said Fonzie's admirer.
"No," I said. "If I were capable of doing that I would have done it long ago."
And then I gave an honest evaluation of Fonzie's character. "He's low maintenance. He needs to go outside. He's not good with children. And he bites," I said just as he bit down on his admirer's hand.
"Oh, that's nothing," said his admirer. "We have a big house in the country with lots of cats."
"He'd be happy there," I said as I pointed at Katya's house. "The woman who lives there has 12 cats and he visits all the time."
"Hmmm," he said.
"I can throw in his cage," I said.
And to his friend, I added: "I'll throw in those pictures. Free."
Negotiations followed. We exchanged phone numbers and e-mails. I took photos which I'll post later. And Fonzie left for a new home in the country where one of his new cat companions was, apparently, picked up at an estate sale a few years back.
"You just never know what will happen at a garage sale," I said as Fonzie and the guys departed.
"It was destiny," said Denis, his new owner.
And they all lived happily ever after.