When I was growing up (did I ever grow up?) there was no such thing as ADD, ADHD, or any other fancy medical diagnoses for “that f*cking kid won’t shut up!” I was just me and I was distracted. Distracted by shiny things, complex things, mysterious things, anythings. My sweet grandmother was always shooshing the angry horde at the doorstep by saying that I was simply “chronically curious” and I would have to agree. Thank god that no evil scientist had yet invented the drugs to calm me down. I enjoyed being curious even if it meant bad grades and irritated parents.
But, as an adult, it has been more difficult. While I enjoy being me, there are a growing number of people who like to play “spike Tom’s drink with ritalin”. I’ve found that whiskey is complimented by pharmaceuticals of many kinds, so I don’t object.
Nevertheless, I was treated recently by one of those Life Lessons In One Act that I’ve become used to. The Divine sends me these little theatrical vignettes all to often to remind me who I am. My wife has a cat. My wife has several animals and I have none. That is to say that their love and affection glands are completely tapped by loving her and only the hate and vomit on your shit glands are left for me. The cat in question is named Ludo. Ludo is incredibly stupid.
The supporting actors in this play were: Livie the Dog, a fly of advanced age, and a wall. Act One: the chase. Ludo advances on ancient and decrepit fly now buzzing without hope of escape to and fro in the kitchen/breakfast nook. Ludo crouches, gathers full steam and leaps high into the air, singularly focused on ravaging the elder bug. While in midair, gracefully soaring past the Ikea table, Livie the Dog barks (who knows why. Livie is a nomally quiet animal but barks at things mainly in the spirit realm. Rapists, murderers, and thugs earn her respectful silence).
Return to Ludo The Cat. Perplexed by the sudden and unexpected bark, Ludo turns his head to look at Livie full in the face. Again, Ludo is in MIDAIR. Because I have become enraptured by the play. Time has slowed. I can see each split second in the full clarity one enjoys while witnessing a car accident or Rhianna video. Ludo has an expression that communicates that he believes Livie to be cheering him on in a semi-threatening way. The eye contact and resulting tension is palpable. Then, inevitably, the wall. Ludo had forgotten he was, however briefly, defying gravity. He had long forgotten the elder bug. He had become distracted and enraptured by a fluffy and very odd looking being. The result? Ludo ate drywall. Hard. A full on NFL, right shoulder first, MMA style tackle of one side of a room. He literally compressed into a shortened version of himself, sprung back into roughly the same deluded shape, and then sat quietly staring at the paint. He was instantly buddhist and calm. The event didn’t happen.
After I stopped laughing, pointing, and talking to the animals and wall involved as though they could reply, I realized that I had simply watched a reinactment of my own life with clever animals used as actors. The cat was definitely me. The dog, fly, and wall could have been any number of things at any time: my boss, finances, love life, children, co-workers, starbucks employees, drug dealers, etc. The sudden and chilling realization came over me like a wave of spilled gin: I was now, irrevocably headed toward a wall while staring at something seemingly very important. I am Ludo. I am a very dim bulb of a cat.
Next step? The bright and wonderful fact that my wife has a special love of stupid animals. I will always have a home and someone to pet me. Now, if only I could be housebroken…
