Neighborly Interrogation

The way Gil told it, he was under the engine of the pickup truck, and had just managed to hit his head so severely that it knocked a string of uncharacteristic expletives out of him. That's when he heard her voice:

"Gil? Is that you under there?"

Dazed and confused ~ not to mention injured, he pulled himself out from underneath said such vehicle and peered up into the bright sunlight to find the silhouetted image of the next door neighbor looking down at him.

"Gil - how many cats do you have?"

[Gil, the cat hater could scarcely believe his ears, but responded kindly . . .]

"Umm . . .we've got three . . .er, no four, er . . .yea. I think four. They are outdoor cats, and two of them just show up once in awhile . . ."

"Well, I think your cats are under my house. Well, my bathtub, really. I think your cat has had kittens under my bathtub." said the neighbor woman.

Gil, always diplomatic, took the matter to a logical place. "Well, let me call them . . ." and began whistling.

From the seeming four corners of the earth, three robotic tails extended heavenward, and came running to the sound of the whistle, which always produced food from the 'umans.

"Well, there's three of 'em . . .the last one, well, that one's a male, so I doubt that he . . ."

He was cut off mid-sentence by the neighbor. "Well, you see, we were hearing this noise under the bathtub. And, well, my dog Annie (she's part pointer you know) she started pointing at the bathtub. She's been pointing at the bathtub for four hours, and I can't get her to move. I don't know what to do!"

About that time, the last cat, the male, came sauntering up, as if he knew what Gil was thinking. 'There is NO WAY that dog over in THAT yard has an ounce of pointer in 'er.'

With that, Gil resigned himself to consoling the neighbor.

It was simply better that way, he said.

A pointer.

Pointing at the bathtub for four hours.

What's a neighbor to do?!?!? :)