Cat House

"You in the House?"

She was a short woman in a faded print dress who had buttonholed me on the steps of the State House. She had a florid complexion and staccato manner of speaking. Waving a sheet of yellow paper in my face, she introduced herself as Mary Keith Norton.

"No relation to the Senator. I'm here petitioning for a bill, and I need your signature on it. It'll be worth your while to read it."

She grasped my lapel firmly in one hand while pushing her petition at me with the other. "I know you're a busy man and all that, but this is something that our state really needs. This here favoritism has got to stop."

There seemed to be no escape. "What do you want?," I asked. I took the paper from her hand, and she released my lapel. "An Appropriation for the Establishment of a Pound for Homeless Cats," read the title.

"Cats?," I asked.

"Yes, cats. There are hundreds, thousands almost, of homeless cats roaming around the city of Boston alone."

I protested, "Don't we already have something like that pound?"

She looked at me with evident disgust. "Only for dogs. Why should cats be discriminated against? Is there any good reason why there should be favoritism for dogs and not for cats?"

I allowed that I could see no particular reason.

"So even you see that we need a state-owned pound for cats. Now, the cost isn't really as much as you think. I mean it'll only be a couple of thousand a year. It's worth at least that much to protect our people, don't you think?"

"Yes, sure."

"Then sign it. Right here at the bottom where the X is. Sign it and speak for it on the floor, won't you?"

"But I can't sign that."

"Sure you can. Why not?"

"Well, I'm not . . ."

"If you don't want to support the bill, you can still sign it. You sign just to get it on the floor, that's all. Your signature doesnt mean you're for the bill. It just means that you want to see it get a fair trial. Give it a fair trial, I say. That's the American way."

"But my signature wouldn't do you any good."

"Yes, of course it would. Every one helps. I'm not alone in this, you know. I've got my whole block in Roslindale solidly behind me."

Just as I was going to inform her that I wasn't a lawmaker, a small, obese man brushed past us on his way down the steps. She left me and pounced on him as he reached the bottom. As I hurried away, I could hear her voice behind me.

"You in the House? . . ."