Autumn in Minneapolis

When Labor Day had come and gone, and after thousands of convention Republicans had left the Twin Cities, we returned for the month of September. The weather was beautiful again, we settled back into the comfortable life parked in a suburban driveway, and Menominee resumed her quest to find mice.

One day, Menominee wandered away. Now, she's a good cat, and isn't inclined to run away from home, but she is interested in exploring. And I'm not a bad kitty dad, either — Whenever she goes out, I buckle her harness and attach her leash. This time, her leash was anchored to a stake in the ground, but evidently the leash slipped off the stake, and in the middle of the afternoon she wandered off, trailing her leash behind her. I wasn't too concerned, as I figured she was still nearby and would be easy to find. I walked up and down the block, calling her name and talking to her, without luck. Then I did it twice more, with the same result. When it got dark, I gave up and decided to wait for morning.

About 11:30 pm I walked out the door into inky blackness, in sandals and shorts. I felt something... it was fur rubbing against my ankle. Without even looking down, I knew Menominee had returned. There she was, minus her harness and leash. Probably her leash had caught on something, so she wiggled out of her harness and left leash and harness behind. And now there she was, her tail in the air, pleased to have gone exploring, proud to have found her way home, hungry and thirsty, ready for bed, happy to be home. I was happy too.

One of the high points of September was taking the motorcycle driving test. I made an appointment and showed up at a DMV site where a course was laid out on a parking lot. One by one the examiner tested the applicants, explaining how to ride through the maze, what to do, where to stop. We gave it our best shot, and although it was a difficult test and I didn't make a perfect score, I did pass, and am now officially a Minnesota-licensed motorscooter rider.