Cats ... Are Like Four-legged Poster Children

Love—the Desire To Love And Be Loved, To Hold And Be Held, To Give Love Even If Your Experience As A Recipient Has Been Compromised Or Incomplete—is The Constant On The Continuum Of Hunger, It's What Links The Anorexic To The Garden-variety Dieter, It's The Persistent Pulse Of Need And Yearning Behind The Reach For Food, For Sex, For Something.

Anorexia Is A Response To Cultural Images Of The Female Body - Waiflike, Angular - That Both Capitulates To The Ideal And Also Mocks It, Strips Away All The Ancillary Signs Of Sexuality, Strips Away Breasts And Hips And Butt And Leaves In Their Place A Garish Caricature, A Cruel Cartoon Of Flesh And Bone.

The Dog’s Agenda Is Simple, Fathomable, Overt: I Want. “i Want To Go Out, Come In, Eat Something, Lie Here, Play With That, Kiss You. There Are No Ulterior Motives With A Dog, No Mind Games, No Second-guessing, No Complicated Negotiations Or Bargains, And No Guilt Trips Or Grudges If A Request Is Denied.

Was He Smart Enough? Introspective Enough? Was It Just Enough To Love Him, Or Should I Attach Myself To Someone Who Seemed Farther Ahead Of Me, Someone Smarter And More Ambitious Than Me, Who'd Be Sure To Carry Me Along Into The Version Of Adulthood I Thought I Should Be Striving For?

There's Something About Sober Living And Sober Thinking, About Facing Long Afternoons Without The Numbing Distraction Of Anesthesia That Disabuses You Of The Belief In The Externals, Shows You That Strength And Hope Come Not From Circumstances Or The Acquisition Of Things, But From The Simple Accumulation Of Active Experience, From Gritting The Teeth And Checking The Items Off The List, One By One, Even If It's Painful And You're Afraid.