POULSBO IS A SMALL TOWN in Washington known for it's viking heart and world famous bread. It is also home to some pretty interesting characters…
I had just settled into the neighborhood coffee shop, Hot Shots Café, when one of these curious characters came into view. A disheveled man, who looked to be homeless and in his early sixties stood before me. A beard long and grey hung heavy over his collar. His hair was smashed beneath a dirty old hat and on his shoulder sat an equally mysterious cat.
His clothes were ripped, his hair in snarls, but still - an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. A twinkle so evident that it carried the dirt and grime out of his shirt and replaced it with an aura of interesting and approachable.
The cat was positioned like a parrot and the man reminded me of a modern-day pirate as he probably had more than one unsavory shenanigan under his belt. What was different about this particular man, was while he appeared to be homeless, he seemed to have a home at Hot Shots. The baristas called both him and his cat by name, and were very friendly.
“Don” was his name. I approached Don and asked if I could interview and write a story about him. Don was nonchalant about my request and asked where I would like to sit. He then handed the barista's his own personal mug, which was then filled for free. We didn’t get very far into our interview before children and adults began interrupting us to ask Don to pet his cat.
I don't much like cats. And so I was surprised when I heard myself ask him to pet his cat. But there was something about him. I wanted to know more and so Don, the parrot-like cat and I had coffee.
"I was born here. I have enjoyed most moments," he said tenderly stroking the cat as it sat on the table purring.
The cat's name was Jai Jai.
Don then told me the correct way to spell it. "It's Russian," he said matter of factually.
I thought I would come clean about my dislike for cats. In case, Don saw me wince or something. He might start to second guess anything else I had to say as well. I cared that he trusted me.
Interestingly enough, Don was also not a fan of cats. That was of course, until the fateful day that he and Jai Jai met. Their meeting story was the kind romance novels are made of. You see, one day Don had rode his bike past a box of kittens for sale and Jai Jai had ran out in front him.
Don almost ran over the kitten but instead was able to stop just in the knick of time, I guess it was kitty love at first sight.
"She picked me," he said with a smile. Don liked that the cat had picked him instead of the other way around. He felt better about the situation in that respect.
He hadn't always lived in Poulsbo. He had spent a large part of his life in San Diego, Ca. There, he would spend most his days collecting cans and selling them to recycling centers.
"On good days I could make $150, on a bad day, only $6," Don said.
$150 is good chunk of change to make in a day. However, the money was inconsistent.
He moved back to Poulsbo 13 years ago.
He said he plans to stay in Washington because marijuana is legal.
I asked him if he did any other drugs.
"No, I don't like anything or anyone having control over me," he said.
He lived at a nearby church and in exchange for allowing him a place to stay he was the official "watchdog" of the church's van.
"I make sure no one steals gas. Damn kids are always trying to steal gas," he continued.
Stealing was a big concern to him. He had been living on the streets since he was a preteen. According to Don, he quit school at the tender age of 11 and shortly after ran away from home. Don said he would make tree houses to live in and spent his nights in the woods.
He often worries that someone will steal Jai Jai, and therefore keeps him on the leash.
"I've never had anything stick with me this long," he said, as he petted his best friend.
I asked him if he had ever stolen anything.
"The only place I steal from is the garbage can," Don said with a smile.
I then asked him how old he was.
"25," he said with a grin. Then stroked his beard, paused and said, "52."
"She doesn't like leaving," he said bringing the attention back to Jai Jai.
"One time she left for three days and I found her back, in the same crate I got her.”
Just then one of the friendly baristas interrupted our conversation.
"Any more coffee today, Don?" she asked while scratching Jai Jai's back. He shook his head and thanked her.
"I can’t go anywhere in this town without someone knowing me," he said.
"Everyone is allowed to pet Jai Jai. Except for this one time a kid came in here with sticky fingers. That was the only time I said, no. But then his mom made him wash his hands, and then he and Jai Jai got along great," he said.
It was true, the townspeople seemed to be taken by Jai Jai’s charm. Was Don right, however? Was it really just the cat?
I decided to ask around town. I walked into JJ's Fish House. I thought the name was fitting.
I asked about the mysterious man I had just spent the afternoon talking to, to a friendly waitress named Brittney. Brittney looked to be in her early 20's.
"We all know Don and love him. We will often give him leftover chowder or a cup of coffee. We all just try to help him out," she said.
As it turns out, Don was not just the church's van watchdog, but the town's watchdog. According to Brittney, he often patrols the streets at night and can often be found cleaning up the community park.
"He is just a nice guy. In the summers he will wash our cars or is always around to fix something, he is our homey," Britney said.