THERE'S A LESSON HERE, SOMEWHERE

This T-shirt was a Christmas gift to Gregory Michael Atkins last year.

Never let it be said that he isn't a careful driver - most of the time. But common sense has a way of going out the window when one is nineteen years old and on the way to Charleston, South Carolina, on spring break with a couple of friends in the car.

Uh oh! Cop! Too late! Those flashing blue lights were not a beautiful sight. A big fine ensued which was duly paid and I'm sure prayers were said that what happens in South Carolina stays in South Carolina. 'Twas not to be.

A very unexpected greeting showed up in the mail from the Georgia Highway Department giving the place and time where a certain unnamed person was expected to relinquish a certain driver's license for a period of six months.

Now six months without a driver's license when one is going to school in Athens, GA, is not a desirable situation – especially when one lives 8 miles from campus. A guy reaches a point in life when lessons learned do not require that parents add insult to injury. Grandparents, however, are allowed to buy T-shirts for Christmas.

Those of you who know Carl well, know he is a cat lover. He inherited that from his mother who was never without a cat. Mostly black cats.

Lily Pearl is the most recent cat occupying Carl's space. He fell in love with Lily's snow white fur and sky blue eyes when he saw her as a tiny kitten. He could hardly wait to bring her home.

This was their first day together. He hasn't had a moment's peace since but that's another story.

Speaking of funky pets, this is Fuzzy. Fuzzy is normally, well, fuzzy. Winter brings lots of hairballs and you are seeing Fuzzy after her summer shave.

She appeared on Scott and Greg's doorstep one late fall day a few years ago and simply wouldn't leave. Having inherited the Atkins trait of feeling sorry for homeless and hungry creatures, Scott eventually gave her milk. After resisting for a while, he named her Fuzzy because she is very, well, fuzzy.

Winter approached. Fuzzy grew more fuzzy and she was, after all, an outdoor cat. But one night the temperature was predicted to drop to sixteen degrees. Scott's mother, who is also very sorry for homeless and hungry creatures, couldn't stand the thought of Fuzzy being out there with no shelter so she talked Scott into letting Fuzzy into the garage where she would be out of the damp and warmed by an electric heater.

Fuzzy was nowhere in sight the next morning so Scott went to work and gave his parents the task of letting Fuzzy out. Fuzzy could be heard but not seen (the opposite of the way children are supposed to behave). After many searches, she was discovered marooned in the loft and had to be bodily removed, along with much hissing and growling but no scratching and biting. Her next night was spent in Scott's van with no heat. At least she had shelter.

Saturday dawned and brought a typical project for the Atkins boys - building Fuzzy a house. It was just the right size and had a heating pad for the floor. Fuzzy didn't like it. What to do?

Fuzzy's house moved to the back of the van - she liked the van but not the house. Off came the roof, in went a bowl of food and water. Fuzzy discovered the heated floor and she loved it. Since the van is used only occasionally, it is now known as Fuzzy's House, duly furnished with an additional cat bed, foam cushions, and quilts in the winter time. I suppose one could say her address is Ms. Fuzzy Atkins, 381 1/2 Village Green Court.