Dear Miles: “I’m Joining a Book Club!”

Tomorrow our dear Miles turns 11! This has been a very big year for our sweet guy. On top of welcoming a baby sister into the family, whom he is delightfully and almost aggressively ambivalent about, he went on a diet and lost about six pounds and now he can even hoist himself up on top of our kitchen cabinets where he enjoys watching over everyone sort of creepy-like. He’s in such great shape now that his vet gave the ok to reduce his insulin injections from two times a day to just once daily. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if this time next year he’s off insulin completely. That’s how committed he is to his healthy lifestyle!

Those of you who have been reading the site since the beginning probably remember the wise and surprisingly philosophical advice Miles has shared in the past through his guest column, Dear Miles, but what you don’t know is that he’s been slowly — very slowly, between naps and bird-watching, working on a book of columns for the last few of years. Last year he promised it would be on its way to publication by the end of the summer, but then he got distracted by a new laser toy and now here it is, a whole year later, and he’s still tying up some loose ends. But, who knows — maybe he’ll get the darn thing to the presses yet. Anyway, here’s an excerpt from the forthcoming book below:

Dear Tammy,

I don’t wear contact lenses, but I wish I did. If I wore contacts, I would take them out at the end of a long day and put on my glasses. Then I’d watch a little TV and maybe read a magazine article before I hit the sack. Some nights I’d be so tired I’d accidentally fall asleep with my glasses on. That would be pretty funny.

Update: I looked into it and they don’t make contact lenses for cats. They don’t make cat glasses either. Apparently, they do make cat sunglasses but they are not prescription.

Yours truly,
Miles

Dear Alan,

When Wendy, the man, and the kids go out of town, our neighbor Mary usually stops by to feed me and Simone Fancy Feast and give me my insulin shot.

I love it! Mary is always so happy to see me and gives me lots of hugs and kisses and lots of treats after I get my shot. Then Mary puts on a Nat King Cole record, breaks out the cards, and we play a game of gin rummy. She smokes a couple of cigarettes and tells me all the neighborhood gossip as I stare helplessly at my cards unable to make any sense of them. One time I almost won.

Yours truly,
Miles

Dear Kelly,

My fur sheds all over Wendy’s clothes and I feel bad about it. I hide in shame under the blue chair as Wendy leaves the apartment oblivious to the cat hair fiasco on the sleeve of her nice coat. I’ve tried to warn her, but the more I meow the more she hugs me and tells me how cute I am, which, of course, only exacerbates the problem. I tell myself some of that is Simone’s hair too, but I know it’s a lie. I am big, I am hairy, and I recently created a situation in the litter box that might result in our building being condemned.

I don’t understand why Wendy loves me, but she does.

Yours truly,
Miles