Gotta learn those names.

It’s interesting. How living with Marcello. Makes a difference in my life. Notice, please. He’s Marcello. Because that’s his real name.  It’s only incidental. That Marcello happens to be a cat. He’s a real being. I talk to him every day. We commune. In so many ways. Like two humans. Two friends. Two compatriots.  Goes to show. That I don’t live alone.  That’s a good thing. I also live with spirits. Maybe imaginary ones. But they seem real. I talk out loud. To Marcello. To the spirits, too. Maybe that makes me crazy. But believe me. It’s a good crazy. I don’t mind being unorthodox. In my approach to life. That’s the way I write, too. Furthermore. I’m a good listener. Tuned in. Not only to Marcello and the spirits. But to my Italian true love, Cristina. We connect. Daily. On Skype. Today. We’re discussing my planned visit. To Sardinia. In February and March. It’ll be a joyful time. Except for one hitch. Marcello won't be coming along. He’ll stay with my granddaughter, Erikka. I’ll miss him. But hey, at least Marcello won’t be lonely. Erikka has five cats of her own. I know. I know. I should be calling them by their blessed given names. I promise. To do something about that. --Jim Broede