Since putting the Paisan cat on a grain-free diet, I find myself in an upscale pet food store every couple of weeks parting with two or three Benjamins. Although I still haven't identified which foods, if any, are contributing to her asthma, this new diet has certain benefits that are well worth the increased cost. She now hardly sheds at all - a definite plus in a small living space. Another small space advantage is the dramatically reduced litter box odor. Well, it's not exactly the litter box that used to smell; I scoop that at least once and sometimes twice a day. It's the, uh, moment of deposit, let's say, that used to drive us to open windows. The poor cat - all this time, it was just cheap food to blame.
So on Friday, I went to the local Pet Smart, picked up another case of food, then got in line to check out. In front of me was a woman somewhere in the neighborhood of 70, petite, stylishly dressed, perfectly coiffed. In one hand was the end of a leash attached to a poodle, a large designer handbag over her arm. She swiped her credit card and entered her pin, only to be asked for her Driver's License. Just a random check the computer spits out now and then, the cashier explained. The woman dutifully began digging through her handbag. At last, she pulled a card from her wallet and handed it to the cashier.
The cashier handed the card back. "No, I'm sorry, ma'am. I need your Driver's License."
The woman took the card, peered at it, and cool as a cucumber said "Oh! I gave you my Concealed Carry."