No words for the insanity in politics. Absolutely no words. So to keep us all in a relatively peaceful place with blood pressure in close to normal ranges and no panic attacks pending, I’ll let Slim Randles entertain us with a fun story about Old Man Jenkins and cats. Enjoy!!!
Let’s ask a hypothetical question here. Would you (if you’re an adult already) trade your reputation as a responsible wage-earner for the guarantee of becoming legendary?
Well, I’d like to tell you about Old Man Jenkins. He was friendly but kinda mysterious. You know … as if anything he did or said or was before he came here just wasn’t any of our business. We didn’t even know his first name until he died. Then somebody looked it up. Old Jenkins lived in a cabin he built. “Back up in the hills,” he said.
We haven’t even found it yet.
He’d make leather stuff and bring it to town and either sell it here, or mail it off to people who ordered things. Nobody ever knew how he got the orders, but we all knew hot to ask.
He’d maybe come to town four times a year. So what do you do when you are mailing leather and avoiding people’s questions? Well, you could become a legend. And Jenkins did just that.
He liked cats, and before he came to town, he’d always load up with a store-bought bag of cat treats to teach our cats to jump over his hand. He’d start by scrunching a cat up against his shins, then block the escape route with his hands. The only way out for the trapped cat was to jump over Old Man Jenkin’s hands … and they did.
Every time the the cats jumped, Jenkins gave them a treat, and pretty soon the cats caught on. He started in on strays, then moved on to gentle house cats owned by old ladies. First thing you know, he had all but one cat in town happily jumping for a treat. Sometimes they even jumped just for fun.
The only cat that failed was that three-legged cat of the Garcia family. Named Tripod, of course. Well, old Tri gave it his best, but having just one hind leg didn’t get the job done. Still he got a treat for trying, anyway.
Old Man Jenkins died on one of his trips to town, and no one has ever found his cabin. But that’s okay. He’s still a legend around these parts. Nobody else has been able to get the cats to follow orders like he could and that’s reward enough. It’s the American Way.
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Reading the story from Slim, I couldn’t help but think of my daughter who has trained various cats through the years. Currently, she’d working with a young female to sit up, do a high-five, slap her palm, touch noses, and a couple of other things.
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Train your cat to use your toilet? Why not? Check out the kit at Temu. Let us know how it goes.
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Check out all of Slim’s award-winning books at his Goodreads Page and in better bookstores and bunkhouses throughout the free world.
All of the posts here are from his syndicated column, Home Country that is read in hundreds of newspapers across the country. I am always happy to have him share his wit and wisdom here.
Slim Randles is a veteran newspaperman, hunting guide, cowboy and dog musher. He was a feature writer and columnist for The Anchorage Daily News for 10 years and guided hunters in the Alaska Range and the Talkeetna Mountains. A resident of New Mexico now for more than 30 years, Randles is the prize-winning author of a dozen books, and is host of two podcasts and a television program.
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That’s all from me for this week, folks. Hope you have a wonderful weekend and can find time for fun and relaxing. Whatever you have planned, be safe. Be happy.
