Mr. Humphries' Agony Session #4

Dear Mr. Fleez,

I am a 28 year old veterinarian's assistant, and I have done well for myself. Over the past few years I have been questioning whether or not to attend my Class Reunion, should I receive an invitation. This was the year. I received the invitation for an "informal" ten-year reunion which will take place on the 31st of December. I was not liked in school, and most of those I considered friends left well before graduation. Part of me wants to go so I can show those who doubted me that I did do all I had intended to do, whereas he other part of me wants to let it be. What would be the feline thing to do?

Sincerely,
Dithering.


Dear Dithering,

There's a slight problem with the question you've asked: You are a human and not a cat. I know this, because no cat worth his claws would willingly assist a veterinarian. What benefit, therefore, is there in my telling you the feline thing to do? You'll only turn around and do the human thing regardless.

Dithering, humans are blighted by the burden of sentiment. No matter what you decide, feelings from your past will overwhelm and confuse you. If you go, you'll wish you hadn't, but if you don't you'll wish you had. Either way, your nature as an overly emotional creature of feeling will convince you that your decision was incorrect. Inevitably your own heart will accuse you of either subjecting yourself to undue stress or depriving yourself the possibility of personal redemption.

Your situation would be a no-brainer, were you a cat. You'd steal the keys from your so-called boss' office, free all of her feline captives, and taunt any prisoners of the canine persuasion as you led your bewhiskered brethren through an open window to freedom. Then you'd forget about the reunion, because it'd only turn out to be an exposé of your personal insecurities, which, were you a cat, you'd not have to begin with.

My advice to you, Dithering, is simple: Take a saucer of warm milk, a tin of your favourite moist delight, relax in a warm blanket, and be satisfied to let sleeping d*gs lie. I can't think of a more feline thing to do in any situation.

Yours Purringly,
W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)



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