The Writer's Cat--Or More Accurately, The Cat's Writer

Many of us writers are owned by cats. Let me introduce you to my Feline Boss, Carl (aka Bubby). He is a pre-owned model, and for months I was never sure who owned him. He began to visit, especially when I wrote outside, often joining me on the swing or on the glider or under my chair for a quiet snooze. (Writers can be notoriously boring--and apparently restful.) But he liked a little excitement, too, because he'd follow the DH around as he did assorted yard work and/or car maintenance. Visitors kept saying, "I didn't know you had a cat." And I would say, "I don't," and they would say, "I don't think he knows that." So I began identifying him as The Cat I Don't Own--despite the fact that I would feed him. And I began calling him "Carl." (I'll show you a photo of why that was later--it has to do with the Geico Insurance commercial and "Carl," the lion.) Eventually, though, the mystery began to unravel. He belonged to the Navy-Marine military family next door. (He may look like a big old orange cat, but I think he's really a "Devil Dog." Dogs try to chase him, and he either ignores them or chases them back.) His military mom, who is active duty, was reassigned, and where they were going, he couldn't go. So I said I'd take him--and I haven't regretted it for a minute, despite his rabid interest in the writing process. So this is Carl, aka Bubby, The Cat I Now Own. (Sort of.)