For crying out loud
I dreamed that Daniel Handler and I worked at neighboring library systems. We were both at a party, where no one except me knew that he was a famous writer.
It's amazing that I've been able to dream at all the last couple of nights. I share an apartment with an elderly, confused cat named Alice whose usual caretaker is on a three-week vacation. Alice spends most of her waking hours (which is most of her hours, unlike most cats) telling anyone who will listen just how unhappy she is. Right now she's sleeping peacefully in front of the door to the kitchen deck, which I open for her about 16 times a day.
Last night, as I put in earplugs to muffle the meows and yowls, I remembered how hard it had been for me to ignore my child's crying when she was just a few weeks old. My father had advised me to let her cry herself to sleep, just as he and my mother had been advised to do by Dr. Spock. Years later I came to believe that this act of early neglect contributed to my lifelong feelings of distrust, alienation, and helplessness, and there seems to be support for this belief. I have no way of knowing how closely our parents followed the advice. Heck, I can't even remember how closely I followed it, but I know that the urge to run to a creature in apparent distress is very hard to overcome.
I read somewhere that adult cats have the mental and emotional maturity of human toddlers, but a cat does not have the same developmental needs as a baby. At 18 years old, Alice probably can't learn very much about emotional regulation or trust. So I will continue to tend to her needs, soothe her when I can, and use earplugs when I need to sleep. The job would be easier if I could recognize what each of her vocalizations really means. Hunger? Loneliness? Anger? Actually I think I know that one: it comes after her gentler pleas have been ignored.
Some cat lovers claim to know the language, just as mothers are supposed to know what their babies' cries mean. But I'm skeptical. I think we're a long way from developing a lexicon for either babies or cats, mainly because both are one-way languages: Unlike elephants, babies and cats use their vocalizations to communicate only with other, mostly clueless species.
It's amazing that I've been able to dream at all the last couple of nights. I share an apartment with an elderly, confused cat named Alice whose usual caretaker is on a three-week vacation. Alice spends most of her waking hours (which is most of her hours, unlike most cats) telling anyone who will listen just how unhappy she is. Right now she's sleeping peacefully in front of the door to the kitchen deck, which I open for her about 16 times a day.
Last night, as I put in earplugs to muffle the meows and yowls, I remembered how hard it had been for me to ignore my child's crying when she was just a few weeks old. My father had advised me to let her cry herself to sleep, just as he and my mother had been advised to do by Dr. Spock. Years later I came to believe that this act of early neglect contributed to my lifelong feelings of distrust, alienation, and helplessness, and there seems to be support for this belief. I have no way of knowing how closely our parents followed the advice. Heck, I can't even remember how closely I followed it, but I know that the urge to run to a creature in apparent distress is very hard to overcome.
I read somewhere that adult cats have the mental and emotional maturity of human toddlers, but a cat does not have the same developmental needs as a baby. At 18 years old, Alice probably can't learn very much about emotional regulation or trust. So I will continue to tend to her needs, soothe her when I can, and use earplugs when I need to sleep. The job would be easier if I could recognize what each of her vocalizations really means. Hunger? Loneliness? Anger? Actually I think I know that one: it comes after her gentler pleas have been ignored.
Some cat lovers claim to know the language, just as mothers are supposed to know what their babies' cries mean. But I'm skeptical. I think we're a long way from developing a lexicon for either babies or cats, mainly because both are one-way languages: Unlike elephants, babies and cats use their vocalizations to communicate only with other, mostly clueless species.