I moved next door to Mr. Stamp
About a year before he died
I found him to be a very interesting man
In the South, 'interesting' is the word we use
Instead of 'miserable'
I thought perhaps I could charm Mr. Stamp
With some of my inherent loveliness
But he was a tad, well, resistant
I made him a pie only to have him inform me
That it taste like chalk
I planted some flowers in his yard
Which he dug up
And let sitting in my mailbox
I offered to take him to a movie
To which he replied--
'Lady, stop trying to get in my pants. I'm through changing my will.'
In addition to all of that
Mr. Stamp found it hysterical
To scream at my cat
Whenever Beau--
My cat's name is Beau--
Whenever he'd go over to Mr. Stamp's yard
He said he was allergic
I said, 'Mr. Stamp, a cat walking across your lawn is not going to make you sneeze.'
He didn't seem to care
He was still just plain old nasty
Now I don't mind somebody being mean to me
I can suffer the indignation
But I do not tolerate anybody
Being mean to my Beau
I said, 'Mr. Stamp, the next time you scream at my cat, I will do something that will set your hearing aides off, and you better believe I can.'
That kept him quiet for a time
Then, one day
I was getting out of my car
And my driveway was icy
And down I went
Right on the ground
I broke my arm
And had to go to the hospital
The whole time I was just sick
Because I hadn't fed Beau yet that day
And I didn't have anybody to call
Who could go feed him
When I finally got a cast put on
And took a taxi back home
I found Mr. Stamp sitting in my living room
Petting Beau
He looked like I'd caught him
With his hand in the cookie jar
'I know you leave the spare key under that fake troll on your front step,' he said
'When I saw the ambulance come, I figured you might need somebody to sit with the cat until you got back.'
'Mr. Stamp,' I said, 'I thought you were allergic?'
'Must have just been a cold,' he said
Then he gave Beau one last pat on the head
And walked out the door
Let me tell you all something
About Charlie Stamp
He may have been a grumbly old coot
But underneath all that
I think there was a real good heart
He may not have had the ability
To know a prize-winning blueberry pie
When he tasted one
But still, a good heart was lurking
Somewhere in there
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