Archives » March 22nd, 2005

March 22, 2005

Not So Lucky

Sometimes the world is completely screwed up. The Nevada Appeal reports that Glenn Lucky had both of his bikes stolen from his house. They were found blocks away, vandalized. The police suspect kids were responsible, and they’re searching for leads.

Glenn Lucky is a local guy who started riding a three-wheeled bicycle as a form of therapy to combat his cerebral palsy. Riding has since become his passion, and also his job, as he often tows a trailer full of advertising behind him. Glenn has become a local hero over the years, because no matter how bad things get, you always know you’ll see Glenn somewhere in town. He carried the Olympic torch in 2002, and some time ago he even rode his bike cross-country to raise money for charity. Last year the word got out that Glenn’s bike was getting old and hard to ride, and within days the community raised over $11,000 dollars to buy him the bike of his dreams.

Glenn Lucky riding his new bike in the 2004 Nevada Day parade.

That bike was found in the bottom of a ditch Sunday morning, dented and missing a tire. It had been chucked off a hill into the sagebrush.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who wants to find these “kids” and throttle them while they sleep. Or maybe go where they live and vandalize some of their stuff. Throw their bikes off a cliff, maybe. While they’re still on them. I mean, what could they possibly have gotten out of doing this? The thrill of smashing up somebody else’s shit? The satisfaction of finally showing that cripple who’s boss?

Luckily, both bikes went into the shop right away, and one has been fixed already. The other one is well on its way. And if the cops ever do track down the perpetrators, they’d better place them in protective custody. Otherwise there’s going to be an angry mob with pitchforks and torches lined up around the block.

The Wanderer

It had been two weeks since we’d seen her. She was one of the “garage cats”, so named because they were too domesticated to live outside, but they weren’t allowed inside because they started peeing on the couch when the baby came. So they lived in the garage. And even though we built a special pen for them in the garage, they still found a way to get out and wander around the back yard. Yang liked going in the back yard to hang out with the dogs. Jumble preferred to stay in the garage, even though she knew she could get out.

Then she was gone. She slipped outside and didn’t come back in. We scoured the garage to make sure, we searched the back yard and the front yard. No trace of her, she just wasn’t there. We knew she was the jumpy cat, the skittish one. If she was chased she would run, and wouldn’t be able to find her way back. If she was too afraid to come out she would hide under a bush for weeks. We knew this about her, and knew that every day it was less likely we’d see her again.

At night I would go outside with a flashlight, sweeping back and forth through the sagebrush, searching for the glint of her green eyes reflecting the light back to me. Every night I swept back and forth. I found the dogs, they were always interested in what I was doing. I found Yang, since he was the dogs’ best friend, especially now that he was all alone in the garage. But I never saw that pair of green eyes looking back at me.

Until last night.

Last night I finally saw those green eyes looking back at me, and after a long chase designed to steer her back to the garage, she was back in the house.

Stories like this so often don’t have a happy ending, so I wanted to put one out there that did. Jumble is no longer a garage cat. Yang still has his friendship with the dogs, but Jumble’s second chance at being an indoor cat starts today.

We just hope she’s smart enough not to pee on the couch again.