From afar friends: Surprise campground cats
Watching them comfortable enough to inch closer is a glorious sight. (Plus a scrapbook of other recent thoughts, all in one place.)
Hello you, lovely supporter of the Paws and Reflect nuance-letter! Today’s installment is less standalone essay and more scrapbook, compiling my five most recent posts all in one place (in lieu of sending you essentially an email every day this week, because as I promised when you subscribed: I care about respecting your inbox!).
Below, I’ve got:
🐈⬛ Cute cat photos
✍🏼 Confessions about my social media use
🌊 A love letter to the beach and Scout
🚐 Juxtaposition of van-life reality and van-life romanticization
🌲 A reflection on the time I got engaged… not to Sean
🗞 The usual notes and news at the end
Thanks for being here (and above all for loving Scout from afar).
Surprise campground cats!
Did these feral beauties perhaps know how much I loved Poets Square: A Memoir in Thirty Cats by Courtney Gustafson and that’s why they decided to grace me with their presence? (Or was it that I sat perfectly still on wet ground for half an hour?)
It is obvious I am a dog person. Between the tattoos and the t-shirts and the Instagram and now my whole career, I’ve never been accused of subtlety. But what comes up less often is that I am also a cat person.
(See here one of my favorite forever mantras: Multiple things can be true at once.)
I grew up with the most special cat in the world—as a female orange tabby, Charlotte was rare in number with a big ol’ personality to match—and just said goodbye to my final childhood cat last summer.
Since then I’ve been missing cats terribly. I’ve always gotten excited if a brewery or winery or bookstore or coffee shop we visit has a resident feline, and I’ve always tried to befriend any cat who crosses my path on the street (as much as my dog wishes I would not do that), but lately the feeling is increasingly intense. If Scout wouldn’t despise sharing her tiny home on wheels with another pet, we’d no doubt have a van cat by now.
So I’m cherishing the moments I got to spend with these cats at our campground last week.
As rainwater soaked my pants on the pavement and the coast’s relentless mist collected on their fur and Sean went ahead on our planned jog without me, I felt like I was where I belonged: Sitting in the morning light surrounded by creatures. I tried to love the cats in a real way, not insisting they fit a narrow definition of “lovable” but instead hoping to see them as they were.
Hoping to slip into their world for a moment.
I never tried to pet them. Life with a sensitive dog has taught me that we humans demand far too much physical contact from creatures who don’t owe us a thing! But I did convince a few to participate in a rousing game of “chase the redwood twig”, which might have been even better, anyway, since play is the real way to any social creature’s heart.
All six that I saw—five gray-and-whites who seemed related, plus one itty black furball—had eartips (the universal sign of TNR) and seemed cared for by the camp host (who I wish had been around to chat with before we left, because it’s always been easier for me to make conversation with a stranger if it can center around animals).
I know far less about cats than I do about dogs, but I trust a few things for sure:
I love them.
They are magical.
Watching them comfortable enough to inch closer is a glorious sight.
I think I've gotta let myself be that, again
I began the Paws and Reflect Instagram account with photos of my dog accompanied by long (I almost always hit the character limit) captions. This felt right. “Here’s a visual snippet of our life together—now here’s a soliloquy-turned-monologue with more details than you ever asked for, because language is my primary way of navigating my world.”
Two best friends finding beaches
Scout and I have been two best friends finding beaches—and posing on them in “middle” position!—for so many years now. Not bad for two creatures from the landlocked Midwest.
Van life duality in California's redwoods
Everything we own is wet from being rained on or simply because the van has hovered around 80-90 percent humidity for two weeks.
I got engaged in the redwoods!
Here’s fun (not fun) personal tidbit for you: The last time I was in the redwoods, I got engaged!
Other notes and news
✏️ Writing
Remember the Big Exciting Project I’ve been hinting at since July and still haven’t shared publicly? Well, unfortunately today isn’t the day either. But I finished my very last round of edits—which was a milestone—and there will be much more to say soon.
I had a great time at Juliane Bergmann’s workshop with literary agent Tess Callero, getting answers to a few of my lingering questions about book proposals. (Which means I have zero excuse to not go polish my book proposal for querying the Paws and Reflect hybrid memoir.)
Also attending that workshop was Emma Vivian of Attempts at Optimism. I’m glad I found her writing!
📚 Books books books
I reached out to Christine Webb, author of The Arrogant Ape, last month via an email that was so long I felt compelled to include a “tldr” version at the top. (Oops. But it’s not my fault her book is so good!! I’ve been gushing about it for weeks.) Anyway, she not only replied but replied in the absolute kindest way you could imagine, and although I guess I could have seen that coming from someone who is wonderful enough to thank the birds in their acknowledgements… I was still gobsmacked and deeply touched. If I ever needed reinforcement to keep telling people I love their work (even when I am in awe of them and feel socially awkward) that was it.
Good Grief by E.B. Bartels is out in paperback today. Like, today today! The books are gorgeous and E.B. is an incredible human and if you’ve got the means, supporting her paperback release would be a lovely thing to do.
And you can still preorder Isabel Klee’s memoir, Dogs, Boys, and Other Things I’ve Cried About, up through its spring release. (Preorders are huge for debut authors! Though I’m pretty confident Isabel already has a bestseller on her hands.)
📌 Travel
We’ve officially been to 49 out of 50 US states—together, the three of us, my little family—in our yellow van. Surreal.
In case you missed it
Recently: Annual veterinary appointment thoughts.
















Full of all kinds of fun stufff!