So many times, I only learn about someone’s treasured animal friend (some call them “pets”) when there’s a loss. I figured I’d buck the trend and mention my cat, Dodger, isn’t dead. In fact, although he’s around 17 years old in people years, he’s in surprisingly good shape. He’s long been a studio fixture, and his image on my studio door warning about the place being protected by an Attack Cat is just a joke. Dodger is really very friendly.

I only call him “my” cat due to the inefficiencies of the English language.

 

Dodger is only “my” cat in the same way I refer to “my hometown”, or “my church”, “my friends”…I am not so arrogant as to claim ownership. It’s more a matter of me being accepted by them.

Of course, Dodger accepts me because of the way I treat him. I’m usually very responsive to his needs…even if he has been trying to move dinnertime up an hour every few months of late. I try to give in to his prompts for attention with at least an hour or so of time on my lap in the recliner at least once in every 24. I know what brands of food he likes, and doesn’t like, and I try not to disturb him when he’s busy…sleeping on top of something I really need to get to.

He’s been a good friend for many years, and I hope to have him around a lot longer.

But I didn’t prod myself over to the keyboard just to tell you about “my” cat. No, there’s a tie-in to Voiceover work in here for those who can use it.

I left out one more important example in the possible mis-use of the word “my”. I’ll bet you use it all the time, just like I do.

“My” clients.

There are no such things. My friends, my clubs, my church, my wife…are only mine in the same sense and by the same definition as “my” big ol’ kitty cat. They accept me.

And maybe they continue to accept me for a lot of the same reasons (except for the time on my lap in the recliner).

When you get a chance, take a moment and pay some attention to the things you put the word “my” in front of…clients included.

It can make life a whole lot more comfortable. …as comfortable as a big ol’ cat curled up in your lap.

— over and out —