The Market Report

Pressing matters of a mysterious nature keep our friend Gabrielle away from her blog. But never fear! Faithful readers who visit Selling My Soul for all things artistic, natural, and feline must not be disappointed. Therefore, while G. attends to top-secret bid-nezz, I, her good friend Denise from South Jersey, will fill in. Sort of like a guest host on a talk show. But in blog form.

The Market Report, you ask? You don’t visit Selling My Soul to be enlightened, much less distressed, about the current economic crisis, and I certainly don’t have any answers. Well, maybe one:

 

Your office, or place of business, needs a cat.

My office has a cat: Her name is Market. She was found as a kitten at an Amish market near our office, hence, Market (pronounced in the high-class, Frenchified manner, “Mar-kay”).

To paraphrase Charlotte, of eponymous web fame, this is “Some Cat.” Not to mention “Terrific” and “Radiant.”

Market officially belongs to the family next door, but the fine folks at the South Jersey publishing company where I work have adopted her as their mascot. She greeted me at the door on my first day of employment, and is easily worth many thousands of dollars of compensation. But hey, that’s me.

Her many “aunties,” and even a few “uncles,” attend to her every need. A typical day includes numerous waterings at the restroom sink -- as well as naps in there with the door closed for privacy -- a steady stream of baby-talk, meals and treats, and her choice of sleeping places. Moments of high drama include a gallant rescue from a swooping Red-tailed Hawk, the offer of a lollipop,* and a chaotic de-ticking by a team of five, with yours truly wielding the tweezers.

All of it is a little thang I call “Crazy Middle-aged Cat Lady Improv Theatre.” We have hip young fellers working with us (the “uncles”), and how they recover their cool and go out of an evening to be suave and urbane after the daylong exposure to these shenanigans is beyond me.

But wait, there’s more. So thrilled was I to be working in an office with such sweet, pet-oriented people, not to mention the terrific and radiant pet, I created a painting for our break room. It measures 22x28 inches, and Market looks like a third-world dictator up there, much larger than life. I was a ROCK STAR the day I brought this in: it is the pride of the office, and graciously brought to the attention of visitors. What more can an Illustration major (Moore College of Art & Design, 1994) ask for?

While that art background precludes my offering any coherent counsel regarding the economy, I can say this with confidence: The Market is looking good.

*Yes, after being reprimanded for taking up too much time in the can by one of the cat ladies, another cat lady unwrapped and offered to Markay a lollipop. I kid you not. Said offer was rebuffed, and the lolly, lemon as I recall, was discarded.