Right now, I am caring for our friend’s two cats and dog. The cats, Sushi (I’m not really sure why they named their Siamese “Sushi”, but there you are) and George, mostly take care of themselves. Their dog, Wooster, is another matter.

He is old as dogs go, but in good shape. He is a finicky eater. He likes boneless, skinless chicken breasts baked in the oven, but not dried out. He is particularly fond of lunch meat (who isn’t). He will eat dog food as long as you keep trying new flavors. He seems to get bored easily.

When I got home from my latest visit this morning, I told my husband, Bernd, that Woo still had his breakfast chicken (some of it anyway) in his bowl which is raised up off the floor to accommodate his old, stiff legs. He’s a big dog and the floor is just a little too far away these days.

My husband made the comment that Wooster really should eat a diet balanced for dogs (i.e. dog food) and not for people. To which I replied, “He’s an old dog. He’s had a good life. If he wants to eat people food, let him.” And then it came out of my mouth, one of a piece with the previous, “When I’m 99, I’ll eat whatever I want.” That’s when Bernd looked at me and said that it would make a good title for a book. I must have given him a look (like I have no desire to try writing a book) because then he said, “Well, at least an article.” So, my mind took off. I am supposed to be doing my daily work out.

Thoughts are flying through my mind at supersonic speeds. Ideas are racing helter-skelter with no real coherence. Will I make it to 99? Will all my food allergies go away by then? What is it that I would eat then that I don’t eat now? What did I really mean when I said that?

Bernd said that he thought the title could be a metaphor. I asked for what. He said a lot of things. I wanted a real example, but he was sitting there in his recliner with Eckhart Tolle’s book, “A New Earth,” in his lap and I knew that if I pressed the issue he might go on for at least a half and hour about something or other and I really just wanted to get some of my thoughts down “on paper.”

The truth about Wooster is that he has been a finicky eater all his life; at least when it is Larry doing the feeding. He eats a little better for his “dog-mom”, Cindi. Wooster really knows how to play Larry. The main thing, however, is Wooster knows how to enjoy himself. Most cats and dogs do. People, now there’s where the problems start. We don’t really know how to enjoy ourselves. Not as adults, anyway. Allergies aside, why should I wait until I am 99 to eat whatever I want? I think the real question is why can’t I just enjoy myself now? Why do I have to wait for some perfect time or permission?

Well, there is fear for one thing. We, Bernd and I, do our best to ignore the fear messages that advertisers use to get us to buy a certain product. We actually record most of the programs we watch and fast forward through the commercials. But I will admit that I am a “child” of the times and fear is a factor. If I did whatever I wanted, bought whatever I wanted, we could run out of money and lose our house. If I ate whatever I wanted (allergies and migraine headaches aside), I might get fat, develop high cholesterol, have a heart attack or God only knows what. My parents set the stage very early for fear as a driving force in my life. I have a very distinct memory of them telling me when I was five years of age, while we were shopping, to keep hold of my sister (three years younger than me) and to stay close because if I were not with them when it was time to leave, they would leave without us. Shame on them. Shame on advertisers.

Don’t think that my life is a living hell; it isn’t. I am sensible and live within our means. I am very good at managing my own health. If you asked me if I am happy, I’d have to say that yes, generally, I am. So why did that statement come out of my mouth? And what did it really mean?

I think that we are taught to defer enjoyment. That to enjoy ourselves RIGHT NOW is wrong; that we have to defer pleasure until some magic moment when it is all okay. But will that moment ever come? Will we die before then? Will we break a leg so badly that we can never walk well again and so miss out on that European walking vacation of which we have always dreamed? Actually, that is not one of my dreams, but you get the idea.

We have a cat, her name is Winnie. She really knows how to enjoy every moment. She is not afraid to ask for what she really wants and do everything she can to get it; sometimes very amusingly and with real intelligence. I can learn a lot from her. Like, it’s okay to have fun. Just think about it for a moment and see what you might be not doing right now, that you could be doing. I know that I am.

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