September 22, 2024

By Arthur H. Gunther III

thecolumnrule.com

Once upon a time, nine times, Goofy the cross-eyed cat stumbled upon my mystery: Why don’t humans purr? He suggested that we verticals do have capable voice boxes but surrounding muscles are blocked by feelings. Felines simply purr out of contentment; humans overthink and believe they don’t deserve it until they walk over red-hot coals. They never pass the test.

Goofy is real, the neighborhood orange cat who for years each morning sat on the deck of my former longtime house. We would discuss things – human nature, bad news, even dreaded politics. He answered with eye blinks, interrupting his long stares, contests I could not win.

The cat purred after food was presented, as long as it was a favorite like chicken or the occasional olive, an unusual delicacy perhaps, but quickly devoured.

Goofy kept me sane as we “talked,” because his instinctive haughtiness made me run out my soapbox opinions, to the point that I almost could see myself calming down and, yes, purring. Alas, no go on that, for we humans always call for the next emotion to challenge. We don’t often win.

Our last conversation, and as it were, Goofy’s last meal from me before we moved, took place just as Election ’24 was beginning to boil, to quake, to open dark closets where dusty tomes on prejudice, ignorance and falsehoods are always available for sinister re-use. As it is written.

I asked Goofy what would he do in the awaited voting booth if so inclined. He answered that he would put his faith in humanity, he would choose the candidates best suited to letting him purr.

Sometimes simplicity can get you through nine lives, at least.

The writer is a retired newspaperman.

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