Marrying George Clooney

maybe it’s the weather, kinda feels like fall, not spring. maybe it’s that we passed a little grey & white kitty on the road last night. maybe it’s that we passed the trailer park where we picked him up… but i’ve been thinking about wishes, my kitty, who if you read my book, you would know that he passed a few years ago. if you didn’t read my book, well, now’s a good chance to pick up a copy.

anyway…

wishes. a very spoiled little kitty. for many years, when we first had him, he would travel with us on location and he caused a few ruckuses. none of which i care to indulge in this moment — suffice it to say — he was spoiled, i spoiled him rotten and i’m working my way through all of that in therapy. but i do have a sweet funny story to share.

we were coming home from a six month stint in los angeles. ken had just finished shooting a film, and we decided to take the red eye home. the 10 pm flight that brings you into newark airport at around 6 am. a long flight. but this was before all the airport, “take off your shoes, gimme your hair gel, gimme that nail clipper…” crap. it was easy to bring your pet on board. so there we were, one big happy tired family making ourselves comfortable on the plane. wishes was in his sherpa bag. ken was happy in his seat with extra legroom. a movie, some ‘snack’ thing, and then everyone was getting ready to nap. sleep. so most lights out. some folks were reading, some were cuddling with their partners, their wives, husbands. some were drinking, some, like ken, were wearing their eye masks, getting ready to and catch a few zzzzzzz’s, along with the rest of us trying to sleep, and just when i was into some weird strange LSD trippy type dream…. over the loud speaker:

WHOEVER BROUGHT THE GREY AND WHITE CAT ON BOARD, IT’S MAKING IT’S WAY TOWARD THE COCK PIT.

hmmm. in my dream stupor, i thought: hmmm, wonder who did that? all lights out. the plane is dark. a few little overhead’s, but not many.

and i lean my head on ken’s shoulder, make myself more comfy, … ahhhh, ken rustling just a bit … and then again over the loudpseaker: THE CAT IS MAKING IT’S WAY TO THE COCKPIT…WHOEVER BROUGHT THE CAT ON BOARD, IT’S MAKING IT’S WAY TO THE COCKPIT. A FINE OF $500.00 for any and all animals that are out of THEIR CARRY-ON’S.”

hmmm. 500 bucks. could it be, could it be….wishes?

ken tells me to check the sherpa bag. NO WISHES. gone. OMG he opened his own bag…

ken pushes me out of the seat, find him. now. 500 bucks. i don’t think so.

cruel. but….fair.

i get up, and i start calling him:

wishes.

wishes. come on wishy. come on wishy.

on my hands and knees: wishes…. wishy…. come on wishy. come on, come on baby, come on wishy….come to mommy.

now you can just imagine what this looked like, i am on my hands and knees and i am looking under seats and saying come to mommy. come on baby come to mommy, and it’s what, 4:30 in the morning depending where we are over the country. either 3:30 am, or 4:30 am… and i am begging, on my hands and knees… on an airplane in first class, and then then then…. i am at the first row, where i announce loudly, out of sheer frustration:

WEE WEE, where are you?

and then in the darkness, a man’s booming voice:

WEE-WEE? WHAT KINDA FUCKIN’ NAME IS WEE-WEE?

and i look up at this man, while still on my hands and knees and i say:

IT’S HIS NICKNAME. OKAY?

and in that moment, right then and there, i can hear a little meoooowwwwwwww, and there’s my little kitty — MY WISHES – velcroed, his paws attached to the underbelly of this man’s seat.

and i grab my cat, and i cradle him, and he’s shaking like a fucking leaf, and as I stand up, feeling extremely victorious, and extremely arthritic … from having been on my hands and knees for a good portion of the flight –  i now look down on the man, who most definitely paid full price for that first class ticket, with his sweater wrapped perfectly around his shoulder… and i say:

I’M BETTING YOU HAVE A NICKNAME.

and before he could answer,  i turned and went back to my seat, and managed to keep my head high, and put wishes back in his sherpa bag and i turn to ken who is both extremely humiliated that this happened, and yes somewhat delighted (although the humiliation is much more apparent) that we’re not out of pocket for 500 bucks, and he says to me in a whisper: “the wee wee thing, a little over the top.”

and i say with just enough boom in my voice, so the passenger in front of us can hear:

“well, moo-moo, it seemed to work.”

and now three years later, we have bella & lotus, and no no…. they have no nicknames. i made a promise, a cross my heart promise, that night while we were somewhere over ohio, no more nicknames.