Echoes of Inquiry
Lessons from a Cat
His name is Angel. But remember that the devil has angels, too.
This is the way I have introduced our cat for many years. We have a bad sense of time, so we can only guess at his age, but it’s somewhere around 18 or 19. For nearly 20 years, therefore, he has systematically attempted to destroy our house. He has literally done thousands of dollars of damage in various ways. Although he is “fixed,” he has over the years seemed driven by a need to mark his territory, in ways that render furniture and doors less than appealing to his primate underlings.
More than once, as I have cleaned cat puke from the cover of a book, or scraped cat poo from my bottom of my shoe (and once from my foot after a specimen squished through the socks) or mopped up cat pee from the kitchen floor, I have vowed to end his life, however many remain to him. I confess to having resorted to shouting at the cat, which only confuses him. (“Why is the butler acting that way? I’ll never understand the talking monkeys.”) If I caught him in the middle of soiling something in the living room, at least he had the grace to run and hide.
Lately, I’ve been stepping around the puddles without comment, simply cleaning them up without complaint. I have ceased shouting at him. I work harder than ever to step around him, endangering another fall (when I fell a couple of weeks ago, it resulted from something similar). When he doesn’t get out of the way as I try to walk through a narrow space, I carefully step over him—slowly, just in case he moves without warning in the same direction as my foot.
What changed? Just two months ago, an attempted barrier in the form of a large, flat box made him hesitate only a moment. Once, I saw him launch and clear it in a giant leap, like an Olympic pole vaulter, and land solidly on his feet.
Like many cats, he has never been one to move out of my way, appearing to believe he always has the right of way, but at least he would skimper away from danger if I carried a heavy load or stumbled as I tried to pass.
But then I noticed him bumping into things. When I picked him up to move him, rather than landing gracefully he sometimes fell sprawling. He got lost in the kitchen, unable to find his food bowl. When I fed him, I had to brush the bowl down the side of his face. Otherwise, he would sniff all around it without hitting the target. He walked slower, and sometimes stumbled. A couple of weeks ago, I caught him peeing in the kitchen, and when I yelled at him he didn’t even flinch. He just kept on doing his business as if he didn’t hear me—because he didn’t.
I realized my cat had gone blind and mostly deaf.
Last week, he peed on the floor not two feet from where I stood, and I let him finish undisturbed, just taking a wad of paper towels and a mop to clean up afterwards. I don’t think he knew I was there.
As I write this, we have an appointment with a veterinarian. I am about 95 percent sure he will not be coming home with us.
That’s what changed. The cat is dying, one way or the other.
He has been part of our household for nearly 20 years, but his time now is short. It makes me treat him more kindly, more gently, with a greater understanding of his shortcomings.
Why does that make a difference?
I’m not suggesting we should have let him trash the house all these years (although he did it without permission). This isn’t about standards or discipline or any of that sort of thing. Rather, why haven’t I treated him kindly and with understanding all along? Hindsight is 20/20, as the cliché goes—I’m realizing treating him kindly could even have encouraged the sought-after behavior more effectively all along. Why did it take his imminent demise to get me to treat him kindly?
In the long run, he leaves me with a lesson about how I treat other people. After all, we are all dying. That’s not pessimistic or dark. It’s simply true. As the old hippie spiritual leader Ram Dass said, we are all just walking each other home. That realization, when I remember it, will change how I treat other people. Maybe you, too.
Update
As I go to press with this: we brought Angel home after all. The vet confirmed he has lost his vision and most of his hearing, that he has kidney problems and anemia. Treatment will cost thousands of dollars, which we don’t have. But she said he is not in pain, and he has even perked up a little since we put him on the special kidney diet. We will have him for a few more days, maybe even weeks. In the meantime, we feed him as often as he wants, we pet him every chance we get, and he sleeps a lot, dreaming kitty dreams. We will enjoy him while we can and prepare ourselves for when it is in his best interests to move on.
We are all dying. We are all walking each other home. Let’s be kind to each other and to ourselves along the way.
Enjoy this comic from wonderful artist Sarah Andersen about how our goals change in life.
Reading Reflections
The Writer Is the Brand
You hear a lot of talk within the independent author community these days (and, probably, within the traditionally published author community as well) about how the author is the brand. Not that genre has suddenly become unimportant, but the connection of readers to particular authors seems to get stronger.
Let me get clear on what I mean: I will read pretty much anything Joanna Penn writes, whether it’s her nonfiction books for writers or her writing as J.F. Penn, which includes thrillers, dark psychological thrillers, short stories, and even nonfiction titles such as Pilgrimage: Lessons Learned from Solo Walking Three Ancient Ways. I actually have several authors like that, who write in multiple genres, and I will read them all.
This week I want to tell you about one in particular. I have known of J. Kevin Tumlinson for several years, and I was fortunate enough to have him as a guest on my podcast some weeks ago. He has written numerous books, including a bunch of archeological thrillers (the Dan Kotler Archaeological Thrillers, often described as “Indiana Jones meets National Treasure”), science fiction, historic crime thrillers, and nonfiction books for authors. He hosts a popular podcast (on YouTube and Substack) and writes a regular newsletter called, appropriately enough, “The Writer_.”
For instance, he recently wrote a piece around Father’s Day that may tear your heart out a little bit without slopping into any stereotypical Father’s Day posts, showing how each of us can mine the unique experiences of our own lives as he delves into the old question of nature vs. nurture and comes up with his own answer.
You should check out his newsletter. In the meantime, enjoy either the first book in the Dan Kotler series, The Coelho Medallion, or the most recent book, number 13 in the series, The Forgotten Rune. I have both on my virtual bookshelf.
Passages and Pathways
Looking Back, Rough Month
Let’s just say June did not go as planned.
But as I’ve frequently said in this newsletter, our disabled daughter (Hannah) has taught us to make your plans but hold them lightly. There’s also that old saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.”
I get the feeling I’ve been quite entertaining to God this month. But it could be worse. I know, because it has been, so I really can’t complain.
The biggest thing: I was supposed to clear out my office at the college this month. I’m officially retiring at the end of July, and I really need to get the moving thing done so that the dominoes behind me can start their fall, i.e., the next person to use my office can move in so the next person assigned her old office can move in, etc. Somewhere down the line, a fairly new faculty member currently in a cubicle will get an office with four walls, a ceiling, and a door, and an even more junior faculty member will move into a cubicle from a broom closet, or maybe from a small table tucked in the corner of an elevator.
Alas, between medical stuff for Hannah, a hard fall and resulting injury to myself, and plumbing issues, I have yet to move so much as a paperweight. I’m hoping to get the shovel out and work on it this week. We shall see.
On the other hand, I got some book writing done. You may have noticed I just flat missed publishing King’s Chronicles last week. If you missed me, I’m sorry, and if you didn’t miss me, I’m a little worried. I confess that I hope to add value to your life, and if I’m not doing that, I need to step up the game. That’s why, even though I’m a day later than intended, I’m putting out an issue this week.
I hope your plans are proceeding more or less as intended, recognizing you can adjust your sails as needed to keep your boat headed to the planned destination, even if the route changes a bit.
Donn King is The Confidence Cultivator. He is the author of The Sparklight Chronicles series of business parables (DonnKing.com/Books) and a professor of communication studies (which means “a professor of standing up in front of people and saying stuff”). He’s also a pastor, a speaker, and a communication coach. Reach out to donn@donnking.com to see how he could help you increase your impact, gain influence, and build your career.
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