roughly translates from Cat Spanish as:
Tracy, my wife, left me. The kids don’t visit. I lost my job. My therapist says I’m making progress, but in her eyes I can see she’s lying to me—she wants me to believe her when she can’t even believe herself. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a cat. I see a failure. A cat-ghost of my past, unloved and uncared for. Who will speak good of me at my funeral? Who will cry? How soon until I’m forgotten by those who once said they loved me. Dave, my old friend, long ago said, “Listen here, pal. You were so worried about getting life right that you forgot to live it.” And he’s right. I never lived. I never lived because I never knew how. And I still don’t know how. Oh, Lord, how can I start to live now? I’m 17, for Christ’s sake—I’m an old cat! There’s nothing left for me in this world! What’s even the point of living anymore?!