I’m not sure that I’d ever admit to being a cat person. I’d grown up with dogs. Some of my best friends were dogs so this cat swarm I was in the middle of was not exactly my cup of tea, but I can’t say I was surprised that “Mama’s babies” were cats, lots of cats, and somehow I wasn’t surprised either that most of her cats were black. I mean they had to be, right?

“Honey, for God’s sake don’t step on the cats!” Maggie said as I inched my way through the feline throng that was rubbing against both legs and meowing so loud you’d think I was the milkman or something.

“Baby, I can’t walk any slower than this!” I said, clearly annoyed.

Suddenly the familiar cackling laugh of Mama Vermillion greeted us from behind the screen door, and as Mama emerged onto the front porch, with a wild wave of her arm, she commanded, “Scat children!” All fifty cats parted like the Red Sea to make way for Maggie and me.

Maggie laughed as Mama said, “Sorry, my babies have no manners, no manners at all! Come in, come into my house. Mama’s got a fresh pot of her special tea a brewing.”