the show goes on- our cat killed a baby turkey says my father

this is a tribute to my dad. happy father's day to all the dads out there.

thanks for reading and keep coming back for more. to date: i have been read in every continent and almost every state in the good old usa- oh my! my pain is your joy. my embarrassment is shared. i am still in awe. keep reading, keep sharing, and keep telling me what you think. all my thanks as always! have a great weekend!


And the show goes on. It always does. I remember once upon a time my parent’s told me that time would fly the older I got. The older I became they were right. As I spoke to my father today. I realized the last time I saw him was Christmas. Christmas is all of a sudden 6 months ago. The show goes on. I used to only see my family only twice a year but that is when I lived, lived 3,000 miles away and had to brave the plane although confided spaced phobic to arrive home for a visit. How is it I only live 2.5 hours away and six months had passed? Passed. No planes to keep me from coming. I could jump on the train or in the car. But why haven’t I gone?

The show goes on and you wake up and it is summer. I had promised myself to be better. To visit more. Visit him more. Because I love my father more than anything. He has the ability to make me laugh. Today when I talked to him on the phone- still shaking off the slumber in my pjs of tank top with hair dye left over and old school track shorts american apparel make. I talked to him while preparing a smoothie for my new blender. Our last roommate took hers to live on a farm. I tell my dad. My dad says what the hell is she going to do on a farm? How is she going to use that blender there? I needed to own a blender of my own for I am in my thirties.

The show must go on. My father tells me. Milton killed a baby turkey. I stop. What? Milton is our cat. Our cat we adopted from my x-best friend who had the tendency of taking on responsibilities she couldn’t fulfill she took on the kitten and couldn’t keep it so alas our family swooped in and supermaned and took the cat. Milton used to be Amelia. After Amelia Earhart she used. The adventurer. Used be a girl. No not because she had a sex change. We didn’t know she was a he until we took her to the vet. I asked my dad- how didn’t we know? He is still growing. Growing as if Milton’s manhood of feline variety was in jeopardy.

I hate that cat. It scares dogs, it kills mice, it attacks me while eating on the kitchen bar or when I am on the computer. He sits on the table next to my food as if I am taking up space. He claws and scratches me. I hate that cat. That cat only loves my father. Be nice to your brother he says. Dad it’s a cat. I hate him. Kate he can hear you stop that. That cat of course is possessed. Spoiled rotten- It gets food feed in its mouth and has a curfew when he has to be home. My dad is worried if he doesn’t get back by 10pm.

See he was worried when they moved to the foothills of tahoe that Milton couldn’t make it, but Milton terrorizes other animals and brings them home to brag. When we lived in the suburbs of birds and mice and now living in the wilderness of deers, mountain loins, and turkeys. Milton killed a baby turkey. And brought it home and left it on the porch. I had to bury it. He continues. Then I didn’t let Milton out because it was past his curfew. Then he scratched me not once but twice. The show must go own. And does. Dad did you hear what you just said. Replay I repeat his words. Dad that cat is insane. We laugh. The cat has a curfew dad. He is like a problem child.

The show goes on. And I miss more dad more anything. I miss these stories and seeing his hands move and hearing his dorky laugh that is my own. The show goes on and I am missing this. I want nothing more to stop the show. Because the quicker it goes, the quicker he will. He will leave to. I need the slow the show down to keep him here longer. Longer. The show going on fast forward the fear of losing my father is my greatest. I fear tons but the show going on means that I am getting older and so is he. He and how can I play in this game called life without hearing his voice on the other end. The other end telling me about our possessed cat or his relationship advice- kate no one puts on a marriage hat and becomes someone different- or his camping advice- make sure you go somewhere safe. I need him. I know the show must go on. But I need to hear, hear him to know I can safely keep going with it.