Memories of Wagging Tails, Friends, and Special Events

By Elvin C. Bell

Special Memories is an astonishing recollection of meetings and discussions with some of the most well-known movers and shakers of the times.
The author shares incredible close-ups with, to name a few, Marilyn Monroe, John Lennon, Elvis Presley, Jimmy Durante, Frank Sinatra, and Robert Kennedy.
Some of the stories reveal shocking details, such as a torrid White House love affair, how Russian leader Leonid Brezhnev was almost killed just minutes before a summit conference in Washington, why John Wayne started to like pork over steak, and how Frank Sinatra burned a hole in the author’s new sport coat.
A box of tissue is suggested for some of the encounters the author had, especially the sad behind-the-scene tug-a-war Marilyn had during her short life, Jimmy Doolittle experienced after the bombing of Tokyo, and John Daily had during his early professional golf career.
In his nineteenth book, Special Memories, Elvin Bell takes readers on an emotional roller-coaster ride of superstar meltdown, victories, and heartfelt personal stories. It is a sip and flip thriller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: May 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665707473

Elvin C. Bell

Elvin C. Bell served sixteen years as an elected public office in California. He is a former correspondent for Time Magazine, and a retired USAF Colonel. He lives in Fresno.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 Elvin C. Bell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-0746-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-0747-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021910680

Archway Publishing rev. date: 06/18/2021

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 The Best Man

Chapter 2 Abby, The Tricolor Ragdoll

Chapter 3 Robert F. Kennedy

Chapter 4 The Experienced Bicycle

Chapter 5 Leo The MGM Lion

Chapter 6 Remembering A Patriot, Glen D. Massey

Chapter 7 The Candyass Town

Chapter 8 Coon Hunting Is Doggone Fun

Chapter 9 An American Aviator’s Story

Chapter 10 The Supreme Roundup

Chapter 11 Corney The Shoat

Chapter 12 Smokie Joe Jacobson

Chapter 13 The Doolittle Raid

Chapter 14 Two Adorable Cats

Chapter 15 Frank Sinatra

Chapter 16 The Masters At Augusta National

Chapter 17 Two Adorable Cats

Chapter 18 Jimmy Durante And His

Chapter 19 The Horse Shrink

Chapter 20 Elvis Presley

Chapter 21 The President’s Executive Secretary, Rosemary Woods

Chapter 22 Sasquatch, The Gentle Giant

Chapter 23 John Lennon And Yoko Ono

Chapter 24 The Barefoot Greek Handyman With Cheeks

Chapter 25 Kevin D. Greene, The Bell Sheep Of The National Football League

Chapter 26 This Article Was Written Before Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson And Larry Bird Were Household Name

Chapter 27 John Duke Wayne

Chapter 28 Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 29 Stompin’, Fast Pickin’, Bluegrass, And Muscle Music

Chapter 30 Hollywood’s Sam Peckinpah And His Family

Chapter 31 The William Tell Shot-Out

Chapter 32 Uncle Howard’s Neighbors

Chapter 33 Yosemite National Park

Chapter 34 Slow Pitch

Chapter 35 Hod Carrying In Reno

Chapter 36 Deny Yourself Nothing

Chapter 37 Saturday At The Farmer’s Market

Chapter 38 Goose Hunting With Dad

Chapter 39 A Tribute To Mayor Floyd H. Hyde

Chapter 40 The Nixon-Brezhnev Summit Conference

Elvin C. Bell is a former correspondent for The Los Angeles Times, and Time Magazine. He served 16 years in elected public office in California, and is a retired Air Force Colonel after 31 years of enlisted and commissioned military service.

During his service he commanded seven different military units, including a Squadron and Group, had four assignments in the White House, and a four-year tour in the Pentagon. His university degrees are BA, LLB, MA, MPA, and Ph.D.

He has lectured at USC, Fresno State, Princeton, University of West Florida, University of Hawaii, National War College, Air War College, University of Oregon, University of Arizona, and the Air Force Academy at Colorado Springs, CO.

Prologue

How many people can look back to a delightful period in their formative years when a part-time job consisted of watering Leo, the MGM super star lion?

Or the Lone Ranger’s horse, Silver?

Or Roy Rogers’ horse, Trigger?

Or Gene Autry’s horse, Champion?

Well, I can, along with many fond memories of each four-legged movie star.

I worked each afternoon at the World’s Jungle Compound in the southern California city of Thousand Oaks, and most of my time was spent watering and just looking at Leo, the MGM Hollywood movie star.

Each afternoon was filled with surprises because I never knew in advance who or how many famous movie stars would show up to film take away shots with their four-legged co-stars.

I had the unique duties to help take care of those special matinee idols, and not a one of them ever showed up with an attitude.

In this collection of various occurrences of real-life experiences, I am elated to share some fascinating events in the lives and times of several loveable and creative wagging tails who added a full measure of pleasure and fulfillment to my years.

Also included are stories about some interesting characters and events I have encountered along the way, thus the title, Memories of Special Events.

Except for military deployments, I have always had a pet. Or perhaps the reverse is true. In their own way, they had me, and I was delighted to be the caregiver for each of them.

I hope readers will find many reasons to smile with amusement as they meander with me down memory lane, and are introduced to some interesting personalities and events that made my life’s journey stimulating, invigorating, and entertaining.

The first person I want you to meet is The Best Man.

After you get to know Phillip V. Sanchez, you will understand why he was The Best Man, to accomplish difficult tasks when everyone else had failed.

Yes, I am bias. He was also the Best Man at my wedding.

--Elvin C. Bell

59689.png

Chapter 1

THE BEST MAN

Flags at half-staff waved their farewell throughout the campus at Fresno State, City Hall, the County Courthouse, and the California State Capitol in Sacramento as more than 700 mourners attended the funeral services at Saint Anthony of Padua Church for Phillip V. Sanchez.

It is appropriate to recall some of the trail blazing feats this Pinedale-born son of a migrant farm labor family accomplished in addition to being the first Hispanic American to serve in the President’s Cabinet.

Another historic first was when Sanchez became a noteworthy figure throughout South America when leaders of those twenty countries discovered that he was the first United States Ambassador to Honduras, and later to Columbia, who spoke Spanish.

The springboard that launched Sanchez into being the first to accomplish remarkable tasks was when, at age 32, he became the Chief Administrative Officer (County Manager) for Fresno County, the youngest CAO in California’s 58 counties.

His illustrative pattern of success started soon after his birth in Pinedale (Fresno County) on July 28, 1929. His parents were immigrants from Mexico who never learned the English language.

Sanchez was salutatorian at his Pinedale Elementary School graduation ceremony, and valedictorian at Clovis High School where he was voted Most Likely to Succeed.

He went on to Fresno State where he received his bachelor’s and master’s degrees while founding the Epsilon Eta Chapter of the Sigma Chi Fraternity and was elected its first President.

During that period, he was in the Fresno State ROTC program in addition to serving in the 185th Infantry Battalion of the California Army National Guard.

He climbed through the ranks in the National Guard and served as an enlisted soldier, a Warrant Officer, and as a Commissioned Officer.

It was during his early military service in the Guard when Sanchez picked-up the nickname, The Best Man.

During those early years, Major Glen Massey, the Battalion Executive Officer, had received orders from Colonel Carl Nichols, the Battalion Commander, to complete a difficult project ASAP. However, the task ran into sever problems.

Major Massey was heard to order, Get Sanchez in here, he’s our best man for this important job.

The name stuck. Subsequently, whenever senior officers had seemingly impossible tasks to complete on time and on budget, the shout was soon heard: Get the best man in here.

Sanchez’s service in government was also extraordinary. In addition to being California’s youngest CAO, he became the Assistant Director and then Director of the United States Office of Economic Opportunity in President Richard Nixon’s Administration.

That position not only enabled Sanchez to be on the President’s Cabinet, but it also gave him the opportunity to create a new innovative framework for the nation’s economic growth and stability.

Those remarkable feats got their support roots years earlier when Sanchez was in his twenties and was elected to the Clovis United School District Board of Trustees.

He did not stop there. His strong commitment to education as a path to success grew and he served on the Governing Board of Directors for the National Hispanic University in Peru, a Trustee of the University of Bridgeport in Connecticut, and as a member of the University of the Americas Foundation in Texas.

His charitable out-reach also became international. He founded and funded an orphanage in Mexico and founded a non-profit corporation that provided scholarships to orphans throughout the United States and South America.

For that extensive out-reach service he was elected President of the Educational Foundation of the Americas in Mexico.

Ambassador Phillip V. Sanchez continued to serve his community, nation, and world by serving on the World Peace Council in Seoul, South Korea, was a member of the World Council of Organizations for Peace, and the International Council of the New York World Association of Non-Governmental Organizations.

In addition, he was recognized for his service by numerous local boards and commissions such as the prestigious Distinguished American Award from the Central California District Council of the Japanese American Citizens league.

His affiliations in California included service as President of the West Fresno Boys’ Club, President of the Fresno Chapter of the American Heart Association, President of the YMCA Board of Directors, President of the National Guard Association of California, and service on the board of directors of eight other charitable organizations.

For those charitable efforts he was recognized twice by the Fresno County and City Chamber of Commerce as Volunteer of The Year.

However, his national and international charitable and educational services may pale in comparison to his unique military status that placed him apart from all the others who wear or have worn our nation’s uniform.

Phil Sanchez was unlike any other soldier.

During his 43 years of service in the Army National Guard, U. S. Army, and Army Reserve, he earned and wore the consecutive uniforms and ranks of an enlisted man, a warrant officer, and a commissioned officer.

In each of those military grades he started at the lowest rank and reached the highest field grade rank.

During one of my assignments in the White House, I requested the Army Historian and the U. S. Department of Veterans Affairs to conduct a thorough records search to determine if any other soldier, sailor, or Marine had accomplished that same feat.

Phillip Victor Sanchez was the only name found.

59716.png

Early history:

In 1961, Captain Phillip Sanchez resigned his administrative job with the California Army National Guard in Fresno and accepted a position as an Analyst 1 (Basic Grade) in the Fresno County office of Ernest N. Mobley, the Chief Administrative Officer (County Manager).

Sanchez ably managed a multitude of difficult tasks during his first year in the CAO office, and was promoted to Senior Analyst. He was mid-way into his second year when he was promoted to Deputy CAO and was promoted again to the position of Assistant CAO at the beginning of his third year.

When CAO Ernest Mobley resigned his position to take the City Manager’s job in Santa Monica, the Chairman of the Fresno County Board of Supervisors, Sloan P. McCormick, asked Phil to apply for the top job.

Phil respectfully declined because he felt he needed more experience.

After the Board went through two lengthy but unsuccessful interview cycles with 38 candidates, Chairman McCormick, without informing Phil in advance, offered a motion during a Board meeting to appoint Phil to the country’s CAO position.

The motion was approved on a three to two vote.

The two Supervisors who opposed Phil’s appointment also argued for and won a mandate that forced Phil to take a fifteen percent reduction in his new salary.

Their reason to oppose Phil, as told to the media: The Mexican kid was too young and inexperienced to manage Fresno County’s vast, complicated government. (The Bee editor omitted the words Mexican kid and used young man.)

Later, on that eventful day, Phil and I met as usual for coffee in the quiet comfort of a corner booth in the Fresno Malt Shop at Fresno and Van Ness Streets.

During that break, Phil explained to me that the antiquated county hospital was a management nightmare. It required an annual supplemental budget increase of more than $7,000,000, and no one, so far, could figure out how to rein in those expenses, improve employee morale, get the hospital certified, and find better ways to lead employees and manage resources.

That hospital, Phil said, is an albatross around our necks and its slowly bankrupting the county. Taxpayers, and even some Supervisors who keep turning their backs to the issues, don’t realize just how serious it really is.

Phil said the task to find a reasonable, effective, and efficient solution to the dilemma would be his first and highest priority as the new County CAO.

He outlined the mission on Malt Shop napkins.

The plan required him to spend the next five months working at nights, on weekends and holidays at the hospital. It would be the first known in-depth evaluation in the following categories: Patient care practices, management efficiency, fiscal accountability, physician qualification, board certification, training, educational programs for LVNs, standards for general service employees, hospital certification goals, safety programs, emergency evacuation procedures, over-time use, sick-leave usage, promotion approval methods, interview process for new-hires, and maintenance costs.

Your role, old chap, Phil told me, is to come by my office first thing each morning and pick-up my notations and have your secretary type them. I do not know anyone else I can trust to do that.

After a pause, he added on some more work.

I need you to prepare two separate files of the typed notes, he said. One file will be the original and the other will be the back-up copy.

As we headed toward our respective offices, I asked him when he would give a confidential heads-up briefing on his plan to Chairman McCormick.

Within minutes, old chap, he said.

Although Phil was almost nine years my senior and the father figure I never had, I was always old chap to him.

He usually tried to say the words with a dose of British swagger and dialect, but his Pinedale Hispanic roots always got in the way.

The next morning, I started what became a familiar one block walk from my downtown office in the Patterson Building to Phil’s corner suite in the Hall of Records Building.

A large stuffed envelope was waiting for me.

On weekends and holidays, I went to his house in Pinedale on Alluvial Avenue in Northwest Fresno to get the package.

My staff took turns each day typing Phil’s clearly written notes.

His voluminous efforts described specific hospital positions, under-staffed sections, the need for job performance standards and evaluation, costly duplication of job efforts, identical job classifications in five different departments that had different responsibilities, observations and examples of inadequate management oversight, inadequate training procedures, lack of on-the-job training, lack of cross-training procedures, and a series of costly management decisions that adversely impacted employee morale and budget shortfalls.

Each extensive list concluded by citing specific problems and recommendations to solve them.

At the end of five months and three weeks, we had an original file of more than 300 pages, and a duplicate set. Phil’s lengthy report contained 67 recommendations.

He kept the original file at his home.

With the kind assistance of Ken Peterson, a bank manager, Phil’s duplicate set was secure in a large at no charge bank safe deposit box.

The Board of Supervisors chamber on a mild Tuesday morning was packed early by anxious Fresno County Hospital administrators, doctors, managers, nurses, house keepers, general service employees, maintenance personnel and former patients.

As the wall clock struck 9 a.m., Chief Administrative Officer Phillip V. Sanchez entered the chamber through a side door, walked to the front-center podium, greeted the Board of Supervisors, and the citizens, and started his report which was the only listed item on the special meeting agenda.

Phil’s presentation was in its fourth hour when Chairman McCormick recessed the meeting for a one-hour lunch break.

Phil and I went to his office and locked the door. We hurriedly ate cold sandwiches with warm coffee which left just enough time for Phil to take a 15-minute respite.

Phil’s afternoon marathon report was approaching its fifth hour when he finally got to the narrative that led up to, Recommendation No. 67.

During his report on No. 67, there was absolute silence in the large chamber even as more and more news media reporters and photographers inched their way into SRO space.

Phil exhibited a military-trained command posture as he stood with square shoulders at the podium.

With a clear, exact enunciation he pointed out example after example of excessive waste of tax funds for unauthorized physician purchases and over-time costs, unprofessional and inadequate management, unacceptable chief-of-staff employee hiring decisions, physicians’ delinquent in trauma treatment re-certification, and the need for hands-on training to eliminate prescription conflicts because of over-sight failures by physicians and the on-site pharmacy.

Phil paused as the doctors, who were so comfortable in their exalted seemingly above reproach hospital domain on East Venture Avenue, and in their spacious estates on the bluffs along the San Joaquin River, suddenly found themselves being lectured at and answerable to the 33-year-old former cotton picker from a migrant farm labor family in Pinedale.

I watched closely as doctors and managers squinted at each other as they crossed and re-crossed their legs, rearranged their seat postures, and looked obliquely into space

Phil’s timing was absolutely perfect.

His authoritarian pronouncement of Recommendation No. 67 started slowly with a brief recapitulation of years of management failures, and millions of wasted tax dollars. His tone built into a crescendo when his voice seemed to issue orders that the county general hospital be incrementally phased out, re-designed for an alternate use, or shuttered.

As gasps, whispers, shock waves and numerous hushed conversations filled the chamber, Phil revealed the second part of Recommendation No. 67, to wit: Fresno County should enter forthwith into a joint assistance program with Fresno Community Hospital to develop a state-of-the-art regional medical center that included a University sponsored medical training center, and expand its outreach by building hospitals in other county urban areas.

As Phil’s words started to sink in with County Supervisors, the reality of saving millions of dollars each year, along with the riddance of an antiquated hospital was now, because of Phillip V. Sanchez, a Godsend.

I looked at the dais. The Supervisors sat with their chins resting on their folded hands with their mouths agape. The realization of the miracle their CAO had just presented to them had seemingly turned them into identical static displays.

A smattering of applause started in the audience. Then the clapping turned into a joyous chorus of unanimous support and celebration.

Chairman McCormick, after several sharp pounds with his gavel, restored order in the chamber.

He then recognized the two supervisors who had voted against Phil’s appointment and had his salary reduced. The two made a couple motions with quick seconds that restored Phil’s original salary and increased it by fifteen percent.

The vote was unanimously.

All 67 items were approved by a 5-0 unanimous vote.

That afternoon, when the supervisors, media and crowd finally departed, Phil and I went to the bar in the Elbow Room. Our wives came and drove us home about three hours later.

59720.png

According to estimates from medical construction authorities, the structure that Phillip V. Sanchez initiated, that is now called the Fresno Community Regional Medical Center, employs more than two thousand medical personnel, contractors, and vendors, and has a replacement value of more than $2.6 billion.

59724.png

At 7 P.M., on February 20, 1960, Phil Sanchez’s presence was required at my church. Why was he required to attend?

He was the Best Man at my marriage to Viola Frances Bland, a sophomore nursing major at Fresno State. Phil’s wife Juanita was Vi’s Maid of Honor.

59689.png

Chapter 2

ABBY, THE TRICOLOR RAGDOLL

Having another pet was foremost on my mind when I retired and moved to Destin in the Florida panhandle.

As I was settling into my new home, a neighbor informed me there were more than forty golf courses within a ten-mile radius that would keep me occupied.

Later that day, while watching the movers unload my well-rested golf clubs from the van, I wondered just how rusty I was with my swing.

After we waved our good-byes, I teed-up a ball in the back yard, took a powerful smack with my big-headed Sumo driver, and reached the pillow soft sugar white sandy beach of the Gulf of Mexico with about ten yards to spare.

A celebratory martini followed. And a nap.

Within a couple days I also discovered that there were a wide selection of upscale restaurants and department stores near-by.

But golfing and dining were not the foremost thoughts on my mind.

I needed a pet.

After reviewing my options, I decided a cat would be good company to help me enjoy this idyllic new lifestyle.

The thought of having a cat caused me to go for feline counsel to the only experts I knew; my accountants Ed Vincent and Karen Allshouse.

With their exceptionally informative guidance, my search to adopt a cat, not a kitten, was narrowed to a one-year-old, give or take a month or two, neutered female.

Karen insisted that it had to be a female and its breed had to be Ragdoll.

Ed nodded his approval.

A Ragdoll has a gentle demeanor, Karen said, and a tendency to go limp and relaxed when picked up, and the Ragdoll has a striking pointed coloration unlike any other cat.

That’s right, Ed said, nodding his head.

Most of all, Karen added with a look of deep concentration, "Ragdolls are affectionate, intelligent, relaxed in temperament, gentle, easy to handle and a good female Ragdoll likes to talk and engage in conversation.

Plus, she quickly added, they are always nearby and make excellent companions.

Karen pointed her finger my way and her eyes narrowed.

Never, ever, never buy into a scam when someone says the cat is a Ragdoll when it doesn’t have a white chin and blue eyes. All Ragdolls have white chins and blue eyes, she said in a definite tone.

Ed nodded.

A talking cat? I asked.

You’ll see, was all Karen would say.

After we said our good-byes, I returned home with my marching orders.

What Karen and Ed did not tell me, but I soon discovered, was that Ragdolls were hard to find, and the cost to acquire one usually started at about $1000.00.

I spent the next several days visiting PetSmart and other quality pet stores and inquired about Ragdolls.

None of the businesses had such a rare and valuable breed, but they took my name and number.

A week passed with no action except inquiring calls from Ed and Karen.

Two weeks later my morning newspaper and coffee routine were disrupted when my vision was somehow focused on the classified section, which Karen had told me to skip because Ragdolls are never that easy to find.

My eyes were suddenly fixed on a small one column, one-inch advertisement.

Owner needs to find a

good home for a 1-year

old neutered Blue-Tortie

Point Mitted Ragdoll female

cat. $200.00

I dialed the number listed.

Within minutes I was on my way to a rendezvous.

It had been years since I was on a blind date, but I had a good feeling this one would be different.

After our introductions, Fred, an elderly and congenial gentleman, opened the back of his car and unlatched the door of a small pet carrier.

His wife Gayle, the obviously tender-hearted partner in their marriage, wiped her red eyes in a slow, circular motion. She finally reached in and cradled a tricolor white, black, and tan bundle of glistening fur in her arms.

With teary eyes, Gayle reached out and offered Abby to me.

Abby’s gorgeous, deep blue eyes were vividly noticeable. I checked her chin. It was pure white. Her black face complemented her black tail, her sides and belly were snow white and her back was tan.

Abby, the Ragdoll, had as my cat advisors Karen and Ed had described earlier, striking pointed coloration unlike any other cat.

As I held Abby and rubbed her chin, Gayle explained why they had to find a new home for Abby. It was a story that was becoming more and more common.

Gayle’s elderly parents, who lived in south Florida, needed regular attention from caregivers while they recovered from injuries.

Gayle and Fred determined that the best place for caregiving was in their Crestview home; not six hours away in south Florida.

The only down-side was Abby. Gayle’s parents had grown attached over the years to their two large dogs and would not move without them.

So, Gayle’s parents along with two dogs moved in and Abby had to move out.

Abby was one year and one month old when we met, and as Gayle explained, I would be Abby’s third servant. The first was her breeder in Alabama who said he discovered some congenital flaws and a few other defects in Abby and lost interest in breeding her and was going to put her down.

That is when Gayle and Fred stepped in and saved Abby.

It was now my time to save Abby.

Or perhaps it was the other way around.

We bonded immediately, I felt, as I held Abby for the first time.

After we had warm and grateful hugs and handshakes, Gayle gave me a large stuffed envelope.

They then removed bags of cat food, serving dishes, Petromalt, shampoo, toys of all shapes and sizes, and pet furniture from their car and loaded the whole inventory into mine.

We all had trouble seeing each other through wet eyes as we said our good-byes.

When I brought Abby into her new home, I carried her slowly around the house so she could inspect each room.

I put her on the lanai table and removed the papers from the envelope Gayle had given me. They were from Abby’s Alabama and Florida veterinarians who listed various appointments and treatments that showed Abby was current on her exams and shots.

The papers also described Abby’s congenital defects and coloring flaws that would prevent her from being in a breeder’s kennel.

Then, in a hand-written note at the bottom of one page, someone, probably one of the vets, had scribbled, Breeders say such defects and flaws tarnish the Ragdoll’s long history of perfection. Garbage! This cat, Abby, is a beautiful, gentle loving creature!

To me, as each day brought us closer together, I viewed Abby’s so-called defects and flaws as treasured assets that divine providence had placed under my care.

Abby was my baby girl.

A beautiful Ragdoll!

I called Karen and Ed with the news. They were thrilled and demanded that I show them Abby as soon as possible.

After only a few days, Abby became acquainted, cozy, secure and quite playful in her new surroundings, and we became each other’s special friend and playmate.

She followed me everywhere, and our Hide ‘n’ Seek games were a continuous comedy of laughter because she started them in a variety of maneuvers that included moving her right ear horizontal.

When that ear became parallel with the floor, I knew the game was on.

Abby’s playtime demands were almost a full-time job for me. And her whims, horizontal ear and deep-throated barks that demanded attention became a priority over all other matters.

She was surprisingly quick to locate me regardless of the painful contortions I had to assume in some of my hiding places.

Abby was no ordinary cat. She had mastered the skill of materializing unexpectedly, and her ocular bag of tricks exceeded those of any other cat I had known.

She also had an almost eerie way of opening her deep, lively blue irises and kaleidoscope them into elliptical slits.

And, yes, she could talk. Could she talk!

After studying Abby for a few months, I was amazed to discover that her gait was a multi-talented means of mobility not limited to just the walk or gallop.

She had a pronounced pace, gallop, slink, skulk, lurk and, of all things, a single-foot and, oh, my gosh, a pussyfoot!

But like the pussyfoot, the lurk is not necessarily a gait. It is a sinister mode of behavior whose purpose is to put her in proximity with her prey, such as a bird, a bug, a sprinkler head, or a small rock, while at the same time concealing her and her intentions.

I also discovered that implicit in the lurk are the slink and the skulk, which gave Abby a sense of what I called stealth mobility.

The lurk ends, of course, when the slink or the skulk becomes a sprint or a run. Lurking cats, like all other cats, do not trot.

After watching Abby in numerous locomotion modes, and contrary to popular belief, I concluded that what I had previously deemed to be a trot, is, in fact, not a trot at all.

It is a single-foot!

Credit Abby for this discovery.

During that fascinating introductory life-style period, I enjoyed two new careers: Abby’s companionship, and my new job as Vice President of a large military construction company that had branch offices in about thirty states.

My employer was fortunate to be designated by the U. S. Small Business Administration as a Section 8 (a) firm, which allowed us to negotiate no bid contracts with federal agencies such as the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines and Coast Guard.

And because my last four-year tour in the Air Force prior to retiring was working in the White House and Pentagon, I was aware of some of the top decision makers in each of those military organizations.

As a result of that background, and my firm’s ability to complete construction projects on time and on budget, I quickly developed an enviable record in obtaining large no bid contracts.

It was, to my pleasant surprise an easy job, and only semi-technical.

I just traveled around my twenty-five-state territory to various