It's a coffee table book about...

So I was up in the attic last weekend, "neatly" placing away the boxes of Christmas ornaments and stockings and ceramic things I forget that we have, and I came across some old belongings: the student trumpet that I learned to play on; the snow-skiing gloves I'll never wear, the furniture I've been meaning to take to Goodwill; and a book. That book! This isn't just any book. It's my favorite coffee table book of all time, that for some reason doesn't seem to fit the new Davis family opinion of what defines tasteful entertainment.

This book....... is "Dancing with Cats." I have never felt more foreign during a "light reading" session before, nor since, and yet I never felt so compelled to read every word of such a seemingly insignificant work. This is a book that was published specifically for me and my sense of humor. It was my book of destiny.

As I walked through a Shreveport book store one Saturday morning, this book fell off the shelf as I unknowingly brushed against it, and I immediately picked it up, and after reading the cover, immediately opened it, and after flipping through it, immediately purchased it. You would too if you had read the Foreward, with words of wisdon of Swami Shakya Bahrain, Spiritual Healer. "...when we consider how the psychic energy of the cat has been able to affect so many lives in positive ways, we begin to understand that cats possess special gifts, a spiritual dimension that cannot be lightly dismissed."

But mostly, I bought this book because these photos are AWESOME! There's Ralph, presenting a "hopping arabesque", provoking a series of stalking leaps from Petipa. And there's Marvin and Missy, busting out and going ballistic, teetering on the verge of collapsing their spiritual reserves into negative submatter. And Fred...who could forget Fred, with all his sharing of grace, power, and oneness with the universe........and wearing striped tights and a cat tail? Anyone who has ever flipped through this book has been captivated.

In one circle of friends, this book has become legend, and I hoped that I might introduce a new crowd to this great find. But, from Pam, who is wiser than I, the word has been given, and the word is "throw that stupid thing out". She found the book lying beside the still unfolded attic ladder and immediately chunked it down further to the first floor, pages flying as it tumbled over the steps.

Now I will never get a chance to spread awareness of the best conversation item that ever graced my living room......................except on the internet.