Dusty Alleys
The 1970's era neighborhoods in Tempe have a feature unique to that time. Behind every row of homes there's a service alley for city trash pick up and access to utility hubs. In the back yard we have a gate to the alley behind our block fence.
When we first moved here I took Mikey for a late evening walk in the new hood. We started through our back alley. A cat emerged from behind a large trash bin. It was too dark to make out detail but he was a scrawny runt. As we moved down the alley the silhouette of a large cat spied us from atop the wall. My Boxer was too busy sniffing his new surroundings to notice.
This neighborhood is full of canines and felines. Every daybreak the dog pound chorus performs with soprano yippie dogs and baritone big dawgs barking their roles as urban roosters. They might be barking at our unusually large cat population. Directly behind us are the Three Amigos, a pack of hyper sensitive Chihuahuas that go berserk at the slightest disturbance. Once the amigos start yipping the rest of the band joins in. I've begun to connect the barks to the homes they come from. There's also a large squawking bird a few doors down chiming in, Toucan Sam.
On a morning walk I saw the big tom cat in the light of day, a weathered feline doing the stray cat strut down the center of the dirt alley as if he owned it. He paid no mind to my sudden appearance, just kept strolling, tail in the air. I tightened my grip on Mikey's leash for the moment he sensed feline presense. The line went taut three seconds later. This cat's fir was a mess, a patch was was missing from his hind quarter, his tail was bent. It may have been the same large cat strolling the wall that first night out.
The hood is mostly quiet but once a neighbor enters the alley, or a stray cat strolls by, the silence is broken by the little latino lunatics. I would like to take a contract out on the Chihuahuas. I suspect the dirty old tom cat would silence them for a can of tuna.
I suspect most of the cats have homes but I know some are alley cats. A couple of blocks over one house has several tabby tenants, or she just feeds the strays. Each time we pass cats are lounging in the front yard. I've seen Tom a few times since our first encounter. There's no chance that cat has a home. He's so filthy I can't tell what color his fir is.
I'm off for a mid-day dog walk to the park. Mikey has a play date with his girlfriend Minnie. There's also a bike ride on today's agenda. I sometimes ride down the alley to queue the chorus.