Ron is Real.  And someone who puts up with him is called a Ron-duh.  My sister was a Ron-duh.  Happy Ronday!

As you may recall, we last left my sister living on the most dangerous street in the county with no phone and no car, walking to work amidst johns and prostitutes, while Ron was living high on the hog in the city, staying with his ex-wife and sleeping with her, but it was all fine because he was just doing it to get her pregnant.

This finally convinced my sister that maybe Ron wasn’t the man of her dreams after all, and she broke things off to the jubilation of her friends and family.

So she moved back closer to us in a one-room studio in a small suburb of the city with lots of jobs close by and the support of her friends and family.

Things seemed to be going really well for sis and I was hoping her Ron days were over. When suddenly a cat appeared. A surprisingly familiar cat.

“Wow – is that Ron’s cat?”

“No, it’s not” replied my sister.

“My bad,” I said. “I guess it’s because it’s a white persian just like Ron’s was.”

“I know,” she said. “But this is a different cat entirely.”

“What’s its name?”

“Chrissy.”

“Wasn’t that the name of Ron’s cat?” I asked. I remembered because he had explained to me that he had named the cat after one of his favorite porn stars.

“Yes, but it’s not the same cat!”

I backed off at that point – and went back to helping my sister clean her apartment. I was putting some things away in a drawer, and right on top was a copy of a very recent veterinary certificate of good health for a cat named Chrissy – owned by Ron . . .

I didn’t say anything for a while. When we finally sat down and cracked open a few sodas, Chrissy jumped up and started scratching the couch.

“Y’know, I just can’t get over how much this cat looks like Ron’s cat. I mean . . . it has the same name, it’s a white persian, same eye color, everything . . . what’s the chances of that?”

My sister looked me dead in the eye. “It’s not the same cat. I promise.”

I shrugged. “I think you should know that I saw the paperwork when you had me put the towels in the drawer.”

My sister popped up and looked in the drawer, then slammed it and glared at me.

“If you knew it was Ron’s cat, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME LIE TO YOU?”

I still scratch my head over that one.