Friday, July 23, 2010

New Orleans cat fight

I'm sitting in the park and two feral cats just had a fight about eight feet away.  I thought cats only fight at night while I'm trying to sleep with the window open.  Of course, few people sleep with open windows in New Orleans as near as I can tell.  I go on patrol after midnight and I hear the hum of air conditioners.

I wasn't alarmed that a battle had broken out to the left of me.  The cats went about their noisy, bloody business and left me alone.  When they were done, the loser ran off about two feet from my two feet.  The winner stuck around awhile, mewled a bit, and then disappeared into some bushes.

New Orleans is like that.  Engaged parties do what they need to do without bothering anyone else.  Those who witness, as long as no laws are being broken, mind their own business or enjoy the spectacle of city living at its best.  A lot of things happen in the Crescent City and very few of them make the news.  A city is the accumulation of tiny details.  New Orleans could fill a train of barges with all the details it harbors.

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