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Foster Cats
On Saturday night, two foster cats were delivered to my house. I have been living without any pets for almost a year. I have only spent six years of my life — three of my college years, two of my law school years, and this past year after my cats of 21 and 18 whom I had adopted in 1988 left their bodies — without a cat or dog (or gerbil, hamster, rabbit) in the house. Early in the year I was grieving. As the year progressed, I came up with different reasons why I wasn’t ready to, or shouldn’t get another cat. In the last month or two, I noticed that I had not gotten a cold since Becky passed. I was starting to think that maybe I had a choice between feeling somewhat empty for the absence of pet energy or being sick.
On Wednesday, I responded rather casually to a plea to find foster home for two adult cats who needed a home because their current home-maker was suffering from cancer and would not be able to keep them. If they did not find a foster place here right away, they were going to be shipped to Iowa in the cargo hold. They had already been adopted from a shelter once, and are not a good age for easy adoption at a shelter. So I have taken them in, theoretically on a temporary basis, but they are growing on me fast.
A Book Recommendation in Honor of Guru Purnima
I am curious about the concept of guru, and as usual, when I am curious about something some large part of my exploration is through books. As my latest entry in books about gurus, I’ve just finished reading Rachel Manija Brown’s “All the Fishes Come Home to Roost,” memoir about her years as an American child in an Indian ashram.
The tale a wonderful example of how humor and curiosity can help us survive human challenges and discomfort and how story telling itself can be an act of healing. Finishing the book at the start of guru purnima reminds me of how many of my teachers have been books.






