It was the tail end of the sunny season here in Wisconsin.
That is why I was in my kayak when I was paid a visit by an inspector from The County Board of Health and Feline Services for Seniors Center.
I had not heard of them before either.
Apparently Grandma Meow Moses was not satisfied with the summer cleaning crew at her assisted living apartment, located a floor below us. So she made a call on her special phone for the hearing impaired.
The one that I paid for.
She gave them an earful about not planning to pay another dime until things were straightened out in her quarters.
That was quite a statement, as no one has ever seen her open her purse.
The guy handed me a written warning with one week to make amends or else pay a hefty fine.
He sped off in his boat.
I went downstairs to see what was up her butt.
The little old lady had a point.
Her dining area was trashed.
The recreation center and restroom were disaster areas.
Even the public laundry room was embarrassing.
But you know what?
She is the only resident on the floor.
What I want to know is how can one little old persnickety woman in pearls make such a mess?
I dragged a bunch of cleaning supplies and the vacuum down the steps and spent a whole afternoon giving her apartment the old one two.
She was right on my tail.
"How do you get your litter all over the place?" I asked. "Have you ever considered wiping your feet?"
She pretended not to hear me.
"Grandma, have you ever spit a hair ball into a waste basket?"
"What the hell happened over here? You couldn't make it to the restroom?"
The infiltration of daddy long legs over the summer was not her fault.
Their demise was mine.
Grandma watched me suck them and their cobwebs up with sparkling eyes.
What this feline of exquisite taste and fine dining does not understand is, this is an accidental assisted living apartment. It does not come with all the bells and whistles she reads about in her glamour magazines.
It is not a full care nursing home for the rich and famous.
Nor is it a fancy hotel with a front desk, valet service and ballroom dancing.
I don't know why she made that call.
Maybe it is her age. That is probably why she forgot that I had told her several times.
Day after day and week after week, I promised her it would happen. That I was just waiting for some crappy weather.
"As soon as it rains," I'd said. "I will get to it."
It's not my fault we are having a drought.
Well, I mean, except for my carbon footprint on this earth.
Anyway, Grandma is satisfied with my latest efforts.
She has uncrossed her arms and has finally stopped looking at me like that.
Also, all charges have been dropped by the CBHFSSC.
However the warning will remain in my file for seven years.
Still no sighting of that dime she talked about.