I like to think of my writing as a separate animal and that animal is a cat.
It’s temperamental, it’s independent and if you make fun of it, it will cough up presents for you and leave them in places like your favorite pair of shoes or in the middle of the living room floor.
All kidding aside, I do see my Cat as being like the cat in the song, ‘The Cat Came Back”
The reason being, just when I think I don’t have a story to tell or a freshly butchered Poem to present to the world- my Cat comes back.
I know better then to tell it what to do, or what it should look like or sound like. I just let my Cat do what it does and when I do that- things are swell, great even.
But this is what I know about me and my Cat, no matter where my head is or where my life is at and no matter what is going on inside of it my Cat is always there.
It always comes back and the look on it’s face when it does is one of purrre satisfaction.