Hey it’s Terrific Tuesday again! How’s everything in your neck of the woods?
Remember Karnak the Magnificent? He had the answers before he had questions. I have an answer to my future. The answer I have had for years, but didn’t realize it. Thanks, Karnak.
My initials as a child were CAT–Catherine Anne Thomas, and now with the two marriages, my initials would be CATBE which I added phonetically L8 (Late) to describe my famous fifteen minutes of tardiness. Thus my email for the past 20 years has been CatbeL8@aol.com. Cat be late not cat bell 8.
Ah the affinity I share with a cat. I am just as likely to wrap myself around you as I am to be aloof. Part of my nature and of kitty’s. I am a cat woman, but not like Halle Berry. I attract felines like a magnet and have well documented it over my journalistic cat past in this column online and in Roadside Ramblings at the Herald prior to my employment at the Botetourt View.
If I were a cat I am sure I would be a furry Maine Coon or buxom Persian. No slinky cat am I.
On Sunday after church, my daughter and I traveled to the Star City Cat Show. Oh, meow. Darling pampered kitties of may different breeds. Long hairs, short hairs, little hair at all. Fat cats, skinny cats and in between cats. Kitty crates of every description. Little soft blanket beds. Cat beauty products, ruff’s around the neck. Owners who were … hmmmm, eccentric in every sense of the word. Some friendly and others, well, they spit and spat like the pampered puddy in their possession. When one little kitty was announced to return to the ring, her owner not only combed the Persian, she used the very same steel comb on her own hair. Har, Har.
Then it hit me. What will I be when I grow up??? Karnak gave me the answer Sunday afternoon.
I want to be a Cat Show Judge.
Ahhhh the fun of it. Gathering up pampered cats of every species and carrying a little stick with a feather toy to animate Gato. Le Chat tres jolie. Fancy pants cats of all description. One judge featured in my photos picked up a giant orange Maine Coon cat like he was a party special submarine sammich from Subway. Kitty just flopped over. Another, an Egyptian Mau, howled his fool head off, spit and spat, but never scratched or bit. Ah the heaven of Kittydom. The magic of the show cat and the cat show judge.
I left the Star City Cat Show with air under my feet, inspired to lift cats skyward.
After arriving home, I decided to show the hubby my new goal.
Lifting Miss Kitty as she growled and spit, I discovered she is just too fat to hold like a submarine sammich– she is Gata Gordita. When I tried to adjust her, she bit and scratched me. I have the details on my left arm and on the left side of my neck. She has been ticked off at me ever since. This morning she boxed my legs as I walked down the steps. Sigh. She is not a show cat.
So I am going to search the Internet for Cat Show Judge Training. I am not going to give up. I lifted Fiesty Cat skyward this morning. He neither bit nor scratched but he did yowl. He was really hungry and willing up to put up with more to eat his Kitty Krunchies. So I must be improving. I also learn quickly. “Don’t feed the cat before you lift it skyward and it will cooperate more.” See that is why I made Phi Kappa Phi in college.
I can see the dazzling lights of Vegas and the Gamblers Cat Show, Madison Square Gardens and the Yankee Cat Show, Atlanta and the Gone With the Wind Cat Show, Dallas and the Cowboy Cat Show or Los Angeles and the Hollywood Cat Show. Oh the places I will go. You never get too old to dream. Cathy Benson, Certified Cat Show Judge. Has a nice ring to it. Now onward and sky lift upward. Tres Meow!
See ya next week.