A CONFESSION

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I have a confession to make. I have been living a lie for many months—almost an entire year—but I can’t live with the guilt and shame any more.

I am deeply thankful for all the people who have read this blog and that have subscribed over the past year. I have become quite a blog reader myself over this time, so I know how hard many of you work on yours and I know everyone just has busy lives in general. So I appreciate the support. And for that reason I owe you the truth.

The truth is that it’s not really me that is writing this blog.

The truth is that I am a human being, and a human being of my particular type is not capable of writing a blog. You see, it’s too complicated to figure out and what if what I write sucks and what if people leave negative comments or even worse—no one reads at all. What if when I click on my page all I get is crickets and tumbleweeds or maybe some hell beast with three heads and a long silver tongue and all he does is spit at me.

I am afraid. Too afraid.

So I confess that the real writer of this blog all these months has been my cat Lyle. He’s done a pretty good job, I think. He’s a very good observer of cats, that’s for sure. But I also liked the one he wrote about Dick Cheney. Lyle is very good at satire.

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Lyle, ghostwriter cat.

I also confess that it wasn’t me who took the trip to Thailand to volunteer with elephants. Thailand was too far away and I didn’t speak the language and what if I got Japanese encephalitis and what if I got lost in the jungle and I was wayyyyyy too old to do something like that, for sure.

I was afraid. Too afraid.

So I sent my cat Sundance instead. Sundance got to meet some of the most amazing animals on the planet. When he got back, Sundance meowed at me about the elephants Thong Dee and Mana and Lulu and even about another cat that would follow him around sometimes. Sundance also met some pretty cool humans and he almost got a tattoo but backed out at the last minute.

Mana. Mana and Sundance got along well and even went drinking together.

Mana. Mana and Sundance got along well and even went drinking together.

Sundance brought back a Chang Beer T-shirt for me. When he handed it to me he was shaking his head. “You missed it, dude,” he said. “It was quite an amazing trip.”

Next time,” I said.

Yeah, right,” he said, and, after a month-plus away, returned to his favorite sleeping spot, curled up on the printer.

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Sundance. World traveler. Friend to elephants.

I confess that this year I met a beautiful woman I really liked but what if she thought the things I liked were stupid or that I was ugly or she wondered why I went to the bathroom so much (because I was trying to escape—and yet have a believable cover story)?

I was afraid to ask her for a second date. Too afraid.

So my cat Butch asked her out instead.

Man, what are you thinking?” he said to me as he hung up the phone. “She’s amazing. Oh well—you snooze you lose.”

This girl and my cat Butch have been going steady for many months now. They seem to be doing really well except sometimes when they’re watching a movie in a theater and Butch will suddenly throw up on the floor. I also think she’s a little tired of scooping the litter box after him—she wonders if he’ll ever be mature enough to handle that himself.

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Butch. Ladies’ cat. Can drive a stick.

I confess that in February of 2013 I was in the second decade of the same job—a job I was very grateful for, a job which paid me a lot of money, a job which didn’t match my insides any more.

My insides were to be a writer. Or some of my insides, anyway. I think I have a liver and a couple of kidneys in there too.

I was afraid. Seriously batshit scared.

I stayed in the job.

Thank god! You have to stay in this job forever! You are not capable of making money any other way. It’s okay to be unhappy as long as you’re making money. You’ll die if you leave!”

But my cat Picasso, who was working alongside of me, decided to quit. I guess he wasn’t afraid. He sashayed into my boss’ office and hissed at him.

What about the future? What about the February 2015 mortgage payment?” I asked Picasso.

Buddy, you’re tripping hard,” he said, while cleaning out his desk, packing up the scratching post, and taking one last piss on the carpet.

Picasso. "The hell with all a y'all," he hissed, and stormed out of his job.

Picasso. “The hell with all a y’all,” he hissed, and stormed out of his job.

That was a big move for Picasso. Quitting the job allowed Lyle to start fumbling around with a pen and Sundance to crawl into the window seat on a plane to Thailand. It allowed Butch to learn how to drive so he could take the girl out on dates.

And just so you know it wasn’t always easy for them: Lyle’s first written piece was a barely-readable haiku about choking a bluebird to death. Sundance hid under the bed for the first two days of the Thailand trip. Picasso wasted the first three weeks of his new freedom playing Bejewelled. And Butch for some reason tried to get to second base on only the third date with the girl. Bad kitty.

Thankfully I have all these wonderful cats, who are fearless and are able to live in the moment. Thankfully they’re around to live my dreams and live my life for me.

So before I have to hand this blog back to Lyle (he’s editing this as we go, from his position in my lap) I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.

I know my cats will have a wonderful one for me.

Oh—and Lyle told me to tell you he’s working on a novel. It’s probably going to have cats in it, and surprisingly a dog too.

I was going to tell you something else but Lyle just hissed at me to delete it. I hate how he rips apart my stuff.

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41 thoughts on “A CONFESSION

  1. Thanks for visiting my blog and liking a few posts! Love to have visitors!! Found this post very interesting. Cats are amazing animals. Mine is helping me right now! Thanks again for the likes.

    • Hi Deb, you’re welcome and thanks for visiting mine. I am just starting to explore your blog. The doll story was disturbing and poignant. I assume that it’s a story from your childhood?

      • Yes, it is a moment in my life that changed me forever. In some ways I’m very much the 7 yr old girl with the big brown eyes, easily disillusioned and not as trusting. 🙂

  2. You own me one! Because you really scared me for the first sentences! From the very first time I read your posts, I lived them. I was in Thailand, I was a humble visitor when you wrote that you were drinking a lot when you were youngg, and I was happy with you as a reader when you are proud of your girlfriend, And when you wrote that it wasn’t you – I lived that to and my heart sank to the floor.
    You are a really good writer ! And I do understand that I need cats myself ( but I’m so allergical against them) but I sure need a couple of cats to give me courage to cope with my daily life.
    You still own me for this ha,ha,ha.
    I look forward to read your next post! All the best to you, your girlfriend and the cats!

  3. Haha!! Your cats are even more amazing than Jay Leno’s cat (you’ll only get that if you watch Jay Leno regularly). A really fun post about your brave and amazing cats. Celeste 🙂

  4. Thanks for stopping by my crazy un-paid crazy blog. Now, let´s see…..been browsing through some of your stories and eded up putting a comment here. By the way that lucrative job you left…..I don´t know it´s all about risk versus reward. You make the call. But in my situation, I´ll have your old job if you want. That boby cat frightens me and the birds too, they seem to be about to come around from nowhere and smack right into my face. Any ways, about this post, you´re confusing me. Are you a cat? Are you an elephant? You´re wierd.

    Thailand!!! yeeehaaa. Haver a fellow blogger from over there. He tells me it´s beautiful and economical, meaning I won´t be broke if I travel and live there which I´m seriously taking into consideration after I get some familly matters resolved. Fun, interesting blog you have here.

    P.S. Can´t hit the damn like button in these internet caffes computers, not only the like button but sometimes the comments section I can´t reach. I should sue the industry.

    • Ha. Where to start. Well, if you know how to edit trailers, love constant pressure and 60 hour work weeks, be my guest, they’re always looking for new people… I am a cat and an elephant as the mood suits me, and depending on what I am writing… yes, Thailand is VERY economical, and if one could figure out a way to generate a modest income there it would probably be an awesome place to live, though I think I’d get a little homesick after a while. Thanks for visiting and following 🙂

      • Hey there, my pleasure you stopped by. Yep, that´s what I get from this other guy, it´s very economical. I don´t know how to edit trailers, but I´m back to writing which I have put off about a 10 year hiatus. Hollywood? Youd kidding me, I´ll be your guest any time of the week, or minute. I know how to handle preassure. You read my about page, one line says “Almost, everybody should go through military basic training” Yep, that´s me, in the Spanish Legion, 2 tours outside of spain. So I guess I can handle that preassure. Or maybe not, since that would be a hole new world. But I´m willing to try. Which writer in the world wouldn´t love to write and earn a living in the U.S. Been there half my life, as an adult I been in Spain, and there is a great great difference. You get me a visa, I´m outtta here and on to U.S soil.

  5. I am more of a dog-person. But for months I have been looking after someone’s cat. All she does is sleep and eat. I told her about your guys who go to Thailand….go out on dates….throw up at movies……write novels….
    She asked me to put my ear close to her. I did, and then she whispered:
    “You think I’m just sleeping? Don’t you?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “I’m really astral projecting to the fifth dimension.”
    “Right.”
    “I’m a spiritual warrior.”
    Nuff said….

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