The life and near death experiences of 'Fluffy'

I'm not a cat person. Never have been and most likely never will be. It's not that I don't like them, but . . . well, I don't like them.

Cats seem boring to me. (For that matter, the musical "Cats" was very boring, but I don't think this has anything to do with my dislike of the felines). The don't fetch, they won't play with you. You can't throw a tennis ball in the yard and have a cat bring it back to you and beg you to do it again. The next time I see a cat jump into a lake to fetch a stick will be the first.

So why do I bring up cats, especially if I don't have one. Well, every night driving home, I pass by this house on the corner where they have a white cat. I have absolutlely no idea what this cat's name is and have never seen the owners address this cat by name, so I christened it 'Fluffy.'

'Fluffy' appears to have a death with involving a pickup truck. Whenever I'm driving my truck home, 'Fluffy' does his or her best to run in front of the truck, even though he or she is confortably safe on the side of the road. It doesn't matter which side of the road 'Fluffy' is on. 'Fluffy' has been on its owner's yard and darted in front of me just for the fun of it, and vice versa.

This doesn't happen when we take Yes Dear's car. 'Fluffy' remains where he or she is and watches us drive by before embarking on whatever trip he's about to take. It's uncanny. I can't explain it and it drives me nuts.

I'm scared I'm going to hit this poor cat and have to go to the owners and say "I killed fluffy. I'm sorry," and I'll get blank stares until I point to their beloved family pet motionless on the road. But I promise, the cat has a death wish, it's not my fault.

What I'm watching: The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
What I'm reading: Sports Illustrated
On Deck: Yet another cat story, this one involving death that also wasn't my fault.