2025-11-17

 Hi.

I've been wondering about if to start this up again, but then I remembered my routine from two decades ago. Come home, possibly drunk and stumbling but usually not. It all depended upon my honesty with myself.

I'd make sure Cat was inside, and if not, open the back kitchen door and call out "Hey, Cat!!". He would usually, regardless of season (winter snow was always fun) running from a few yards down and finally jump over our own old school wire fence and come up the deck and just chow down on his fresh dry food. I'd refill the water dish, rinsing it out if needed, and in between the desktop PC booting up for a new game of Civ III, we would talk about the day. He would, between chomps of Frisky Kitty or whatever I grabbed from the corner store, meow and throw a paw out to let me know I needed to listen. I would give the "Uh Huh, Is That Really What Happened?" or "Did She Really Like It?" to him and in between bites he would still just meow away. 

We had a good relationship, I think. He never liked it when I tried to give him a pat after he came in and was eating. His tail would flick and he would actually find a way to growl while eating, which I like to think was his way of saying "Fuck Off and Die, I'm Busy."

I learned to not bother him while he was eating, and I could wash dishes and drink another can of Yuengling while we just got ourselves settled for the night. And then I'd settle into the ancient desk chair from 1955, blankets around me, and Cat would give me a single claw from his left or right paw, depending upon his mood, just to let me know that now was time for warmth and not the keyboard on my lap.

I would conquer empires, lose to raiding hoards of barbarians, sometimes continue that stupid game where I had nuked it all but was on my way to outer space. But Cat, he was a good kitty. Would even stay with me when that can of Yuengling was done and it was time to roll that old office chair across that shitty mexican floor tile to the fridge and pull out another one. 

But 3 or 4 a.m. would always roll around, and after falling asleep in that office chair I'd finally figure out that maybe it was time to go to bed. Cat would somehow, usually, wake up with me. Take that good cat with me with both hands and just put that kitty at the end of the bed, while I turned on the hallway stereo for some low level late night music and go to bed. 

*

A lifetime ago.

Thousands of miles traveled, hundreds of folks met and loved and hated and fired and I had it all. On the good occasion, especially that last year back then, I also had a nice girl to wrap my arms around as we went to sleep. Random low level music playing as we held each other and loved how we not just liked the drunken nights before, but actually liked waking up together. 

And she even liked Cat.

*

And I gave it up for a life more lived but somehow much less.