3 baggies and a crumpled $5 bill

I made baggies for the homeless people I pass every day. Each one included a packet of tissues, cough drops, Chap Stick, hand lotion, a breakfast bar, a pouch of tuna, and $1. At lunch on Tuesday, I took a walk and distributed three of them.

One went to a young mother with two little daughters, who said, "God bless you." The second went to a man sitting under the scaffolding at a construction site. He smiled and thanked me. As I was walking away, I heard him say, "I hope it's socks." Gotta remember that! If not socks, I could certainly add those toe warmers. The third was for a guy who was really, really drunk or wasted, sitting in front of The Billy Goat Tavern. I hope when he woke up/came to, this made him feel better.

I was going to give the last one to a guy in a knit cap, sitting under a street light. When I got close, I saw it was Caleb! He was alone, no Napoleon or Randi. I said hi, he unsmilingly said "hi." I was confused by this and said, "You don't remember me, don't you?"

"You're The Gal," he said. This is so weird. Why is he so cool to me? I gave him $5 and asked where the rest of the family was. He gave me a street name, and told me that Napoleon is "so big." Then he went back to reading. I was dismissed.

I walked a couple blocks up and down the street he named but didn't see Randi and Napoleon. I thought she's appreciate the last baggie because it included lotion. I didn't see her anywhere. There's an underpass on that street, but to be honest, I didn't feel safe venturing down there. I hope that's not where they're living now!

I don't know why Caleb is so remote. Is he embarrassed to be back on the street? Did I offend him somehow in one of our last encounters?

It doesn't matter though. Of course, I enjoyed seeing the young mother's face when I gave her the baggie. Yes, it makes me feel good to know that the wasted guy will wake up feeling like he matters to someone. But doing good shouldn't be about accolades. Doing good should make the world better, even in a small way.

Caleb, Randi and Napoleon have opened my eyes to the suffering of my neighbors. That is what matters. And this Thanksgiving, that's what I'm going to be grateful for.

Short but not sweet

I saw Caleb today. He was alone, Randi and Napoleon were on a different corner. Our conversation didn't go well. I'm not sure why.

He didn't seem to recognize me at first, which confuses me. I was wearing my signature Cubs jacket and I haven't changed my hair. He also didn't seem to want to talk. The news he shared wasn't good -- he hasn't worked more than a few days since August. Consequently, they lost their apartment and are back to sleeping in shelters. They hope to have enough money set aside "before November 1" for a new tent. That's all he seemed to want to share, so I didn't press.

As I dropped a $5 into his cup, I asked how Napoleon was, and he said, "huge." But he didn't smile. I squeezed his shoulder, asked him to tell his family I said "hi," and then I was on my way.

They are in my prayers.

I had a $5 in my back pocket!

After spending time with John recently, I decided to be more serious about my health. After all, John is not quite two years older than I am and in crappy shape. He tires easily and has trouble walking. He needs a new job, and I worry what impact his appearance will have on his ability to impress in an interview. And so I've recommitted to eating better and working out.

On my way to the health club, I unexpectedly saw Caleb! He was panhandling on a different corner, and once again, he was alone, without Napoleon or Randi. He didn't see me -- nose in his book -- and I didn't stop. I simply didn't have time if I wanted to get to the health club when there were still lockers available. PLUS all I had on me was a $20, nothing smaller.

But I made a plan. After my workout, I would pick up my lunch at Five Guys Burger and Fries and then share my change with him.

Alas, when I got back to his new corner, he was gone.

I think of this as a good thing. If he's not sitting out all afternoon, especially in this unseasonably nice weather, maybe he's just augmenting his unemployment income. After all, when things were dire for this little family, they were all three out, no matter what the weather.

I've decided to keep a $5 tucked in my back pocket at all times. Because I just don't know when I'll happen to run into them and I could use an update.

I suck

I'm not liking myself very much right now. I did something unkind of Monday, and I don't really understand why.

I saw Caleb on the corner of Michigan and Lake, and I just kept going.

He wasn't with his wife Randi or Napoleon. Just Caleb, his nose in a book, collecting cash with a sign that said he needed $23/night for a place to sleep. He didn't see me, and so when the light changed I let the crowd carry me across the street and just kept going.

When last I spoke to Randi and Caleb, they still had their apartment. I hope that's still the case. But I don't know, because I didn't stop.

I've been feeling overwhelmed lately. Worried about John ... about Henry ... about Rizzo. My oldest friend has been promising me a good chat since Labor Day, but she hasn't come through. Is she buried under the blues, or just thoughtless? (And which is the preferable option? I don't know.)

Worried about money. On the one hand, my tooth ended up costing way, WAY less than I expected it to (thank you, insurance). But there's still my niece's wedding on the horizon, and a new boiler, and a new roof, and (maybe) new windows.

I think I just couldn't handle another drop of sad.

That's not admirable. It's honest, but not admirable.

Second time this month!

I ran into Caleb, Randi and Napoleon in the middle of Michigan Avenue. It's the second time I've seen him the month, and the first time I've been able to catch up with the whole family in months. 

 

Napoleon is fine. He's a very big cat, but lean and muscular. He's been fixed and he's up to date on his shots. It cost them more than $500, but they're glad to report he's healthy and shouldn't need to return to the vet for a year.

 

Mom and Dad aren't faring as well. If I didn't know Randi had a stroke earlier this month, I wouldn't notice anything amiss. Her speech is fine and so are her motor skills. But her arms looked a little bloated. Still, her spirits were good. She's stopped wearing her earrings for some reason and the massive hole in one ear, where a disk used to be, is unsightly. I worry about that when she starts looking for work again. 

Caleb was laid off. Not "let go," not "fired." Laid off. He expects to return to work in a few days or weeks. He drives a forklift for a food distribution warehouse. They still have their little apartment but are panhandling to make ends meet.

 

They mentioned "friends who have air conditioning." The context was that, when it was so hot, Napoleon spent a few nights with them. This made me happy. Not because of how spoiled Napoleon is, though that did make me smile, but because they have friends they can visit. One of the things Randi said to me once was that, being homeless they had to carry all their belongings with them at all times. This made it impossible to visit non-homeless friends or go to the movies, "like normal people." Even with setbacks, it looks like they are well on their way to being "normal people." 

 

May they live happily ever after!

I only had $10

I saw Caleb on Monday evening! In his same old spot. But without Napoleon. He was panhandling because he needed an extra, unexpected $70. Napoleon was spending the night at the vet's -- finally being neutered in addition to getting his shots. Naturally, I wanted to help in any way I could. After all, I know how hard it is for Caleb to be away from his fur baby overnight. But I didn't have a lot of money for him. I was taking Amtrak first thing in the morning to meet with my client, and I needed to have cash on hand. Still, we can always spare something, right? So I coughed up a pair of $5s as he updated me on his life.

His wife is back in the hospital. Last week Randi had a stroke! The doctors believe that the 90º+ exacerbated "her condition" and helped bring it on. I'm not 100% sure what "her condition" is, because I don't like to make him share more than he's comfortable doing. She should be home this week. He said she's upset about something "with her face," but he didn't seem to think her aftereffects of the stroke were that bad. He just misses her.

Caleb is doing well at work. He makes enough that they live indoors all the time now. Napoleon goes out every day, at least for a little while, in his harness and walks on a leash. He enjoys being an indoor cat, especially on hot and sunny days, But Caleb reports Napoleon gets "mad" if he doesn't get his walk.

I wish I'd known last week I was going to happen to see him. I could have gotten books for him at the library after-sale! I know how both Caleb and Randi love reading.

For Book Mama

One of my first ever blogging buddies was Book Mama. I don't know how she found these musings, but she became a regular reader/commenter here and I started following her adventures. She was such a warm, funny woman. So passionate about so many things! She embodied "midwestern nice" at its best.

She's the only blogging buddy I've ever met in real life. When she, her mom ("Snowbird") and  kids visited Chicago, we all had lunch together in the cafeteria of my office building. They were just as authentic and comfortable as I'd hoped they'd be. Whenever I pass the table by the window where we all sat, I think of that day and smile.

Today I received an IM from Book Mama's mama and she shared the devastating news. "We lost her." This woman, this mother, this wife and daughter died from a sudden brain aneurysm. She was only in her 40s.

 I post these roses in memory of a woman who:

•  Was so proud of all her children, and just saw her oldest learn to drive and graduate from high school. That poor young man, going into this new chapter of his life without her.

•  Encouraged her girls to follow their hearts and interests. When one of her daughters became Hamilton obsessed, Book Mama not only brought her to Chicago to see the show, she waited at the stage door so she could take her girl's picture with her favorite Schuyler Sister.

•  After decades together was still romantically in love with her husband. As a barren spinster, I so enjoyed hearing that!

•  Had a conscience. She was committed to things, from car seat safety to the choir to Postcards for Voters.

•  Was enthusiastic! Whether it was her planning her summer reads or applying the Konmari method to her home, Book Mama threw herself into what she doing today and was looking forward to tomorrow.

My heart will miss her heart. When she brought her girls downtown for Hamilton, she asked me where she could find Napoleon and his people. She wanted her children to have a face, and a story, to help them better understand homelessness. And she had a $20 tucked away to share with Napoleon, Caleb and Randi. Because that's who she was.

Rose photo courtesy of Pixomar at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

He's huge!

Today brought an unexpected Napoleon sighting! Caleb and the now very, very BIG kitty were on their familiar corner at Michigan and Lake. They are, unfortunately, homeless again. The "apartment" they'd been living in -- really, the attic space over a garage -- had mold and it was disruptive to wife Randi's breathing. She's had such health problems that they decided it would be better to sleep outdoors in their tent until they can find another place.

There's good news here. Caleb is still working, still driving a forklift at a grocery warehouse. Since he's been moved back to nights, he's decided to augment their income by panhandling. I didn't see Randi because she was picking up new socks and underwear at Macy's (which is just up the street). This is great because she's battled cancer, and I was afraid that her absence meant she was sick again.

I'm always surprised by how comfortable Caleb is with working the corner. His sign says he needs money for a place to stay and that's true, so he's not taking the money under false pretenses. Napoleon has been to vet recently, and the cat's health is always paramount in their lives, and, of course, that costs money.  Caleb honestly needs help and isn't ashamed to ask for it.

What is it about that corner?

It's been months since I saw Napoleon and his people, Caleb and Randi. Someone else has taken their place on the corner of Michigan and Lake. A young man, under 30 I guess, with watery, sad eyes and a paper cup. I was stopped at the light one lunchtime, jiggling my coins and my keys in my pocket as I waited, and gave him 27¢ -- really for auld lang syne, because it was Caleb's corner.

"Thanks," he said, making serious eye contact. "This is the first money I've received today."

"I hope it brings you luck," I said, not really knowing what to say. But I wanted to say something. I learned from Caleb and Randi that these are not just homeless people, they are people, too, and it's important to engage them as equals.

He makes eye contact with me now. Singles me out wordlessly, but with those sad, watery eyes. Sometimes I comply, sometimes I don't have change, but his face haunts me. One night there were about eight of us on the corner, and, as the light changed, he said, "Please. I just want to buy some food." I was happy to catch the light and scooted home. But why? I had no pressing appointment that couldn't wait a minute or two.

This evening I gave him 35¢. I said, "Good luck, sir," and he said, "Thanks." And I feel better.

He doesn't read on the corner, like Caleb did. He doesn't dote on a cat, like Caleb and Randi. So I don't have that books-and-cats connection with him. I don't give him as much money as I did Caleb and Randi because I was reasonably certain they weren't using the cash for drugs -- after all, for them, Napoleon always came first. But I wonder why his eyes are always so watery. It could be sinuses or allergies, or it could be something illegal.

Still, I feel like our souls have touched somehow. I see him, and I can't pretend I don't. At the rate I'm going, I won't give him $50 this year, so I don't pretend that I'm making a meaningful impact on his life. But I want him to know he's not completely alone. I see him. I look for him. I care about him.

Sharing WowBao

Wednesday I saw all three of them: Napoleon, Caleb and Randi! They were in one of their usual spots, the corner of Michigan and Lake. And, since they were sitting on cardboard on the icy sidewalk and it was starting to snow, seeing them made me sad.

I was worried that this meant they were once again homeless and jobless. After all, why else would anyone be on the street in this weather? And I saw a wheelchair. Does this mean that Randi's cancer came roaring back with a vengeance?

I needn't have worried. For while the news I learned wasn't good, it wasn't dire. Caleb still has a job -- a good union job, driving a forklift -- but he is currently unable to work. In November, he fell down in the warehouse and tore ligaments that have been slow to heal. Hence the wheelchair. Short-term disability pay isn't his full salary, and they simply don't have enough to pay their January bills. And so, for the next week and a half, until he is cleared to go back to work, they are going to panhandle.

Randi is still unable to work, something related to her prescription medications. When she was out of earshot, what Caleb whispered touched me. She's running low on makeup, and it's hard for her "not to feel pretty." I remember last year, when her cancer treatment resulted in a complete hysterectomy, and how unfeminine she felt. He loves his wife very much.

At first it seemed strange to me that begging is their go-to. But to them, it's an honest way of life. They are short on cash, they are having trouble making ends meet. They are not asking for cash under false pretenses. And they don't want to lose their home.

They still live in a single repurposed room above his boss' garage. It has heat, running water, and it's safe at night. They still keep all their belongings in suitcases loaded onto a grocery cart, except now they don't have take everything they own with them everywhere they go. Randi was almost giddy about being invited to the movies with another couple. They didn't go -- no money -- but in the past it was something they couldn't do because they couldn't leave their stuff anywhere.

And Napoleon is a healthy bruiser! He climbed up my leg, just like he did as a kitten. But he's huge, 15 lbs. of feline. While Caleb was talking to me, Napoleon climbed into his lap and helped himself to the bowl of WowBao someone kind person had given them. Napoleon had kibble and water, but WowBao was hot and Napoleon is no fool.

I promised Caleb and Randi I would look for books for him and pants (size XL) for her. He's currently go through the Bourne books, a set he found somewhere. And she needs big pants because her meds cause her weight to fluctuate. It's important to note that Caleb asked only for the books -- not money nor the clothes -- because he knows I pick them up from the Little Free Library. More than money or things, they like to talk. As Randi once said to me, she appreciates being treated like a woman, not a homeless woman.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Happy Holidays! (from the archives) 

1. Sam loved giving her annual wish list to Santa. Yet some children are reluctant to climb into Jolly Old St. Nick's lap. Did you enjoy the tradition or were you shy? Or did you by pass it altogether -- either because you wrote him a letter or because your family didn't celebrate Christmas?  I would have preferred to write a letter. I felt I could have been far more specific for Santa by copying out page numbers from the Sears Christmas Catalog. But my mom got a kick out of seeing us with Santa, so that's what we did.

2. Are you currently on the Naughty or Nice list? How did you get there? I've been pretty nice this year. I've done good work and tried to be a good friend.

3. Did you ship any gifts to friends and family this year? If so, which one traveled the farthest? I sent this book about the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum to my oldest friend in California. When she lived in Chicagoland, she enjoyed our trips to Springfield to see Abe so I'm sure it will make her happy. This slim volume traveled about 1,940 miles, courtesy of the USPS.

4. Did you buy yourself a gift this year? I gave myself a new pair of glasses. New prescription, blue frames. Interestingly, my prescription is a little weaker this time than it was in 2016. It surprised me, but the eye doctor says that's not unusual.

5. What's your favorite holiday-themed movie? Have you seen it yet this year? My favorite is Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. I haven't seen it yet this year. I may bring it along with me when I leave town. Maybe I can watch it when I'm waiting around to change planes.

6. Thinking of movies, Christmas is lucrative for Hollywood. Have you ever gone to a movie theater on Christmas Day? No.

7. Have you ever suffered an embarrassing moment at the company Christmas party? No.

8. What's your favorite beverage in cold weather? This year, I've enjoyed Rumchata.

9. Share a memory from last Christmas. Last year, during the Christmas Eve service, I

started to cry. I was overwhelmed with sadness and worry about Napoleon the Cat and his homeless humans, Caleb and Randi. Chicago winters can be brutal and I knew they were trying to get by in their tent. This year, I'm happy to report that they have made it off the streets and sleep indoors in a makeshift studio apartment above a garage. Of course, the problem of homelessness persists and people still need our help. Christmas is a good time to keep them in our prayers and maybe do something more tangible to make their holidays brighter.

Enjoy your holidays, Everyone!

This was a surprise

A happy and sad surprise. I slipped out at lunchtime on Friday, eating a little Chinese and heading for the bank. As I waited at the light on Michigan and Randolph, I saw a familiar face. Caleb! Napoleon's "dad." In almost exactly the same spot where I met him 18 months ago. Only today he was rolling toward me in a wheelchair, being pushed by a friend of his.

Last month I learned that Napoleon and his family were no longer on the street, and I was sure I'd never see them again. And here Caleb was ... in a wheelchair!

He is still driving a forklift, but he was promoted to days instead of the night shift. He and his wife and, of course, Napoleon, live and sleep indoors every night. His boss at the grocery warehouse has "rented" them the attic space above his garage. They're staying there for free now, in exchange for the work Caleb is doing to make it livable.

So Randi, a cancer patient, is warm and dry every night. That's good news! And Friday was her birthday, so Caleb and his friend had gone out to buy her a card.

But what about the wheelchair? He had a fall at work and tore a ligament. It was beginning to heal when he slipped on the ice and set back his recovery. So the doctor recommended a wheelchair when he's outside. Caleb hopes to be back at work "soon."

I told him I was sorry I hadn't gotten to say "goodbye" and his response surprised me. "Oh, you'll see us again." When the weather gets better, he fully expects to augment their income by panhandling, as time allows. His attitude is borne of having lived on the streets for years. Many of their friends are still homeless. He seems to see no stigma. I gave him $6 (for Randi's birthday).

And then we talked about the essentials. The two passions we share:

1) Napoleon is "a monster." He now weighs in at 14 lbs.! (The average house cat is 8 lbs.)
2) I'm reading Y Is for Yesterday. Caleb asked if it's "sad," since Grafton died before she could write "Z." I love that he knew that.

My heart is suddenly lighter

I know what happened to Napoleon! And it's all good. Caleb got a promotion at work. He drives a forklift now during the day shift. And they are living indoors, day in/day out.

It's a long story, but I googled and one website led me to another and another and finally I tracked them down. I have a phone number and I can text them.

I want to ask if they still need clothes, and if Caleb still goes through paperback books. I can send that period mystery that I've been carrying in my briefcase.

It's never all bad

There's so much going on in my life right now, and much of it is sad. My oldest friend has myriad health problems and not a lot of resources. It seems that my little adopted family -- Napoleon the Cat and his people -- have disappeared without a trace. And two weeks ago tonight, my darling Henry suffered traumatic brain injury.

But I have to stay positive. I have to look ahead. I have to keep functioning.

So I'm thinking about my bathroom remodel. My long-awaited, long-delayed new tub and tile are being installed starting Monday morning. The contractor has his parking pass and I've had a set of keys made. I have scheduled a water shut off for 9:00 AM on 10/29. It's happening! Fingers crossed. I'm trying not to fixate on what can go wrong -- oh! the horror stories I've heard -- and am anticipating my new, white bathroom.

And I'm closely monitoring the news about the upcoming TCM Classic Film Festival. I've got my room booked. I have enough miles to fly to LA for free. Now the first line up of the films has been released. Oh. My. God. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid! Holiday! How I love those two films! And what movie would be better to watch with the TCM family than the first one TCM ever broadcast: Gone with the Wind. I can't wait to celebrate these movies with other members of classic film tribe.

It's time

"Any change? Please?" So asked the man with the paper cup beside the Starbucks front door. This was a few feet from where Caleb and Napoleon used to sit.

I took the crumpled dollar bill that I always have in my jeans, saved for my favorite street cat, and placed it in the young man's cup.

They're not coming back. It gets dark earlier, it's starting to get cold. I don't know where Napoleon, Caleb and Randi are, but after a month I have to accept that they are gone from my life.

I'm still keeping the paperback mystery in my bag, though. I know Caleb would appreciate it. It weighs little. And I could be wrong. I'm wrong all the time about all kinds of things, you know.

The paperback in my bag

I've been carrying The Language of Bees in my briefcase for three weeks now. I don't know anything about it, except it's a period mystery. It's not for me anyway. I picked it up for Napoleon's "dad," Caleb. He goes through books so fast, it's as though he eats them! For this homeless man and his wife, Randi, books are everything -- their only entertainment and respite from the difficult dreariness of life on the street.

But that paperback has been in my bag for three weeks now. I haven't seen Caleb, Randi or Napoleon in nearly a month.

Last time I talked to Caleb, I offered to bring him some clothes from my friend John. Caleb said that of course he wanted them, that if he couldn't wear them himself he knew plenty of others in the homeless community who would appreciate them. But it was Randi he really wished I could help. The anti-cancer meds made her leg swell, and it was hard for her to find clothes. I asked him to check with her, to make a note of the sizes she wants, and I'd see what I can do.

Then I took a few days off to visit my nephew at college. Since I've been back, this little family has

disappeared.

I haven't gone this long without seeing at least one of them since we met, back in May 2017. If it had been a week or two, I would just assume that Caleb was taking extra shifts at the warehouse where he drives a forklift. He's always willing for more hours, better shifts.

But as the weeks melt into a month, I'm afraid it's more dire.  I have nothing to go on but instinct, but I suspect Randi is in the hospital again. She may even have died. It's sad but true -- the survival rates for pancreatic cancer are not good.

I miss interacting with Caleb, Randi and Napoleon so much! They keep me grounded and remind me of what life is like for those outside of my immediate bubble. And I like Caleb, especially. He's curious. Plus, there's a healing power to cat fur.

I hope they're OK. I pray they're OK. I don't think they are OK.

Size Eleven Shoes

That's what my friend John wears. Or, I guess, wore. I found this out over drinks Thursday night.

First we blabbed for a bit. He told me about time spent over the summer with his out-of-town brothers. I told him about my bathroom remodel. Then, apropos to nothing, he asked me if I'd noticed an uptick in "able-bodied young people" panhandling on street corners. "If I was one of them, I'd even take a job a McDonald's."

"Sometimes they have jobs. They're just homeless," I replied. And, for the first time, I told him about Caleb, Randi and Napoleon. He was surprised that I knew so much about them. At first, it made me feel like a freak. "How often do you talk to these people?" "How much time do you spend on street corners?" He seemed worried that I was being ripped off somehow, "taken." I reassured him that they know very little about me, personally. They don't even know my last name. And I mentioned that, in terms of moola, I never spend more than $10/week. Oh yeah, and little gifts, like their Christmas bag and ...

"Oh, Gal! You did that?" he exclaimed. I had a hard time reading him. Was he shocked that I'm nice? Did he think I was wasting my resources?

It turns out he was admiring. I don't know that I deserve admiration. I have learned a lot about the world from Caleb, Randi and Napoleon. Helping them has enriched my life in so many ways. But I am glad that my tale has touched a chord in John.

"I wear size 11 shoes. Ask him if he needs my shoes." John had foot surgery back in 2016 and his shoes fit differently now. He also has sweaters and shirts he's willing to share. He was very excited about it.

And on Friday, John followed up by email. While Caleb can't wear the shoes himself, he knows someone who can. And John is eager to get the shirts and sweaters to him.

So John wants to help. He just needed to be given a way to do it.

So that little gray kitten -- now long and lanky and fully grown -- has ended up being quite the catalyst. Viva, Napoloen!

The Coffee Mate is mocking me

I can be such a judgemental bitch. From our new offices, I can see one of the corners that Napoleon and his humans often inhabit. I was looking out the window Friday morning and saw Randi and Caleb setting up to panhandle, and Randi stopped and bummed a cigarette from a passer by.

Randi was smoking. I was furious.

She's been treated for both ovarian and pancreatic cancer. And she was smoking!

At lunchtime, I came and went through the side door so I wouldn't see them and they wouldn't see me. I was too angry.

Then, in the afternoon, I went into our office coffee room to replenish my ice water and I saw a fresh supply of Coffee Mate cups had been delivered. Java lovers can choose from original, vanilla and hazelnut. I recalled a story Randi just told me about her most recent hospital stay. She said she missed Napoleon like crazy, and every evening took the little cup of Coffee Mate creamer off her dinner tray and hid it in her drawer. Then, when husband Caleb came to see her, she'd give it to him as a treat for Napoleon. She said it was her way of feeling close to her fur baby when she couldn't see him or hold him.

I took one for Napoleon and was going to give it to them, along with $1, on the way home. But by the time the evening rush arrived, they were gone.

OK Smoking is stupid for everyone. Smoking is reckless and ridiculous for a cancer patient. I'm not wrong about that.

But I'm sure this has occurred to her. And her husband.

I'm also sure I'm in no position to judge her. I haven't spent month after lonely month in the hospital. I don't know what it's like to sleep in a tent because I can't afford both meds and a bed. I don't know what it's like to have to buy a bottle of water so I can use the Starbucks ladies to wash my face and armpits and apply my makeup.

Maybe smoking is one of her few pleasurable activities. Maybe it's something she just doesn't have the strength to quit right now. I don't know.

But my withholding my conversation and the princely sum of $1 over lunch did not change her circumstances. And it made me an ass.

I was worried that the single-serve Coffee Mate would break open in my purse so I took it out and put it on my kitchen counter. Where it is mocking me.

Napoleon and Mom!

Randi is back! She's been terribly ill, and I was worried I'd never see her again. But today she was on the corner with Napoleon. She was wearing pajama bottoms because one of her legs is still swollen, and that can't be good, but she looked very happy.

Her illness was lonely and isolating. She mentioned the cards I sent her way, as well as the book and the little cat ornament. They gave her something to look at and think about when she was in the hospital. She missed talking to people, and she missed Napoleon so much. She told me a harrowing story of how, when she was filled with cancer drugs, she held Napoleon close for comfort and, when she came to, was sad to discover it was only a pillow.

When I arrived at her corner, she was deep in conversation with a cat lover who was asking about Napoleon. I told the woman how tiny Napoleon was when we first met, less than a month old, and how happy and loved and chill he is. I told her how the day Napoleon was rescued in the park by Caleb and Randi was the luckiest day of his life.

"No," Randi said. "It was the luckiest day of my life."

The woman was so touched she put an extra $5 in the cup.

Napoleon slept through all this. An oblivious fur shrimp, accepting all the attention and affection as his due. He's such a content, trusting animal that you can tell he's cared for and loved.

Napoleon Update

He goes to work every night, 5 nights a week. Because Caleb has gone back to sleeping in his tent -- he gave up the rented room when his wife went into a recovery facility for cancer patients -- he can't leave the cat when he goes to work. So, when Caleb goes to the grocery warehouse where he drives a forklift overnights, he takes Napoleon with him.

The warehouse manager has been a very good sport about this. The boss appreciates that Caleb is one of the working poor, doing the best he can, and so allowances are made. Napoleon used to spend his shift in his carrier on the floor in the manager's office. But lately, when Caleb clocks out at the end of the night, Napoleon has been perched on the manager's shoulder, "helping" with paperwork.

Today, August 31, is Caleb's birthday. Yesterday I gave him a birthday card with a $10 bill inside. He showed me what he spent it on: a roll of Gorilla duct tape. He was excited because it's better quality than he could have afforded otherwise, and he needs it to repair the tent. While we were talking, I noticed how bad his teeth are. I don't believe they were always this discolored. His wife's illness seems to have taken a physical toll on him.