A spate of recent news stories have focused on a Seattle cat by the name of Henri, who is the star of some heavy videos on YouTube and now also has a book contract.
As a fellow auteur, I celebrate Henri's renown, and applaud his achievements.
However, Henri's success does lead me to question my own accomplishments. I wonder whether my humble blog might go viral if I were to become more existentialist in my musings. Perhaps I am too cheerful and joyous.
Today being my blog's three-year anniversary, the tributes have been pouring in. This appreciation, "Poodle Saves Family", first appeared in the Midsight Crisis blog:
People often talk about how good it is for a family with school-age children to get a dog. It's supposed to teach the children responsibility and give them a companion.
And, as the mother of older children, I am aware that our dog, whom I infantilize shamelessly, fills my need for a little cuddlekins like my children used to be.
But until recently I never noticed that having a dog has a direct benefit for older adolescent boys and young adults. A teenager who would not be caught dead being soft or cuddly with other members of his family is not ashamed to melt over his dog. And, in a way, the dog has become a campfire for all of us: We can sit around and coo over him together, even when it's not appropriate for us to coo at each other any more.
To my family, I am the most important guy. I am the campfire.
I joined other Angelenos who trekked to Inspiration Point to take in the first sunset of the year.
On the way up, we passed a man and a woman on a bench who were caught up in the joy of a marriage proposal and acceptance.
Like that couple looking forward to their future together, the rest of us at Inspiration Point turned our faces to the west, and embraced the year to come.
Walk #35 of the Secret Stairs book was heavy on the religion front. It took us through an area of Hollywood that had in the twenties been the home of a number of religious movements that had also developed housing for their followers.
First up was the Vedanta Temple, an attractive if slightly forbidding edifice. We encountered a foreign gentleman outside who informed us that the Temple includes living quarters for about ten persons. He stated that he himself had been a guest there for the previous two weeks, but gave no additional context.
From the Vedanta Society we moved on along some steep hills and past some interesting architecture.
After going up a short flight of stairs, we ended up to my surprise on Alcyona Terrace, right in front of the home that Thomas' friend Daren had lived in when the two of them met as four-year-olds.
I sat on the steps and reflected on the passage of time.
Before it could turn into another Proust moment, we moved on up the street to see a number of buildings all related to the Theosophical Society, an eastern religion whose southern California headquarters, named "Krotona", were located here from 1912 to 1926.
The original bungalows and apartments erected for Theosophical Society followers are still there. The original Krotona building is also now an apartment complex. We walked in and saw an attractive central courtyard with one lone koi manning a pond.
Thinking that we might bond around the common experience of being pets, I tried to make eye contact with the koi, but I wasn't sure whether he (she?) noticed me. Koi tend to be inscrutable.
Leaving the koi, we continued our walk past more former Krotona buildings, and then past a Spanish Revival castle that had once been the home of Barbara Stanwyck.
In a yard, we noticed a gorgeous egg sculpture.
At the end of the loop, we continued on to Gower and walked in the direction of the Hollywood sign to Carmen Place, so that we could stop at the Monastery of the Angels, a Dominican nunnery where Teresa bought some pumpkin bread baked by the sisters.
My owner initially cruelly required me to wait outside, but the kind ladies running the gift shop insisted to her that she go back out to get me and carry me inside with her. You can always trust a religious order to stand up for the small and powerless.
He tends to hover over me, anticipating my needs and smoothing my way.
But we both know that it's high time for me to learn how to deal with obstacles on my own.
He's trying to learn to let go.
After my heartbreak of not fitting in, I was glad to have a soothing get-together with Bruno.
Bruno is quiet and diminutive like me. Actually, he's more diminutive. And, whereas I look like a common well-fed lamb, Bruno has an exotic high-cheekboned look.
In his bearing he reminds me of an aristocratic llama.
Being with Bruno is relaxing because we share the same sensibilities. He is very attuned to his owner. Which, obviously, is something I can relate to.
I am well known for my devoted licking. If a nose or a mouth presents itself, I will lick it.
Some say licking is my calling.
I have been reflecting on this as I considered comparisons that have been raised between my licking and the hugging that has made an Indian woman named Amma famous.
Amma has become known as the "Hugging Saint" in consequence of her propensity for embracing and comforting people -- specifically, hugging them. She's gotten a lot of press and has a big foundation and goes on world hugging tours where people line up for hours so she can hug them.
Do I aspire to the same recognition for my licking? No. My licking is personal. Perhaps the world would be a better place if I went on a world licking tour, but I just don't feel driven to share my licking with humanity.
I prefer to work on a smaller scale, bringing happiness by just licking the noses that come my way organically. It feels more authentic.
