I'm a potter and artist from the NYC area living in rural Eastern Kentucky. I swear a lot.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
The Howling of Murray
I wake in the morning to feed the animals. I walk out the back door to the feed room where all the animal feed is kept. Murray, my eighteen-year-old cat, meets me on the way out. He hopes to come in and have some food from a can as opposed to the dry food that sits in his bowl in the barn. I imagine he feels at his age that he is entitled to some special treatment. And he is, really. I'll feed him in the house but first, the horses have to get their grub. As I walk through the pasture, he follows, howling to no one in particular, looking out to the horizon, lamenting his wait for the good food, screaming, screaming... Mrraoow, MmraAOOw, MmmRRAAOOOW! Louder, louder, louder until I scream out to him (Because he's going deaf) "MURRAY, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" As if a tiny speck of my voice reaches his brain, he turns his attention to me and addresses me in a smaller voice, "Mrow?" as in "Now? Maybe now you'll feed me from the can?"
Murray with mouse
I saw Murray get a mouse for the first time several weeks ago. Since this cat is eighteen and moves in tai-chi time, I was amazed. And happy. Poor mouse, you did a noble thing. Maybe you were deranged. Maybe you were on meth. How else would Murray have caught you?
My step-eth son-eth hath graduated high school this month. I am very proud of him. I wish him the best. May he find his way and find himself. May he explore beyond the boundaries imposed on him by others and the boundaries he imposes on himself. May he come to realize his own true feelings. Do I wish him happiness? Sure, but I really wish him honesty and integrity in his life; happiness follows. Find your mountaintop, find your space, be yourself.