Crazy Crap Item #128: The part where I find myself having a conversation I did not intend to have

My lovely neighborhood of Norwood Street boasts many attractions. Not least among them is a one-eyed black cat. I'm not sure where he actually lives; but I suspect he has a home on some other block of Norwood -- perhaps on the 1300 block, or maybe even the much hated 1400 block.

In any event, we know he has an owner. He seems to be well cared for. In addition to his one, jewel-like green eye, he boasts a collar and the kind of shiny, healthy coat of black fur and stocky physique you find only in a cat that eats early and often. He's also very friendly.

At our recent block party, we had occasion to discuss this cat. I'm not sure how it came up; I wasn't present for the start of the discussion. But by the time I came around, Eamon was suggesting that a cat with one eye would need a monocle. This led to speculation about the nature and personality of a one-eyed, monocled cat. It was suggested that his name was Thaddeus J. Churchill III, and that, perhaps, he thought himself a bit good for the likes of us, what with wearing a monocle and all.

Several days afterwards, our monoptic friend came to visit. As I've said, he's a friendly sort, and surprisingly unfazed by children. He minced into my yard and up onto my back steps, where he submitted himself to petting by James, Jack and myself. I recollected that Eamon had given the cat the name Thaddeus J. Churchill III, but that, in fact, said cat was a girl.

"How do you know?" Jack asked.

"I took a peek," I said, deliberately vague.

"A peek at what?" Jack inevitably asked.

"At the parts that tell you whether a cat is a boy or a girl," I answered, still vague.

"What parts?" Jack asked, undogged.

"Well," I hemmed,"Boys and girls have different part back here," gesturing vaguely to Thaddeus. "Boys have sacs. This cat has no sacs. So it's a girl."

Done, I thought.

"What sacs?" Jack asked, a tad horrified.

"Well, you know, sacs," I hawed. "Like you've got..." I trailed off, hoping he'd be distracted by something else.

"Where have I got sacs?"

Pause.

"You know. In your pants."

He twisted to look at the seat of his pants. "Where?"

"On the front."

"Oh, these?"

"Yeah, those."