Even though I had orchestrated everything down to the last detail, however, there was one surprise in store for me that night. After he concluded his toast, Laurence called forward Alex and Zachary, his eight- and five-year-old nephews, and Allison, the seven-year-old daughter of his first cousin. He retrieved three large, foam-core posters from some hidden corner I hadn’t noticed, and handed one to each of them. “I need some help for this part,” he told them. “Can you guys help me?”
They had obviously been prepped for this beforehand. Their faces nearly split beneath their wide grins of anticipation as they each eagerly took hold of one of the posters.
“There are three ‘people’ who couldn’t be here tonight,” Laurence said. “Technically, they weren’t invited. People who know me can’t believe I live with three cats. But I do, and it wouldn’t be a celebration of ours if they weren’t included. So it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you for the first time, in a very real and legally binding sense … Vashti Cooper-Lerman!”
Allison held up her poster, and it contained an enormous photo of Vashti in midstride, looking adoringly out into the crowd as, no doubt, she had looked adoringly at the man holding the camera.
“Three things you need to know about Vashti,” Laurence said. “Number one, Vashti is beautiful. Number two, Vashti knows she’s beautiful. Number three, Vashti knows that you know she’s beautiful.”
People laughed, although not nearly as hard as I did.
“Next,” Laurence continued, “for the first time ever—legally and officially … Scarlett Cooper-Lerman!”
Alex held up the poster of Scarlett. In her photo, Scarlett was lying on her side, her head raised as she gazed rather majestically into the middle distance.
“I’ve lived with this cat for three years,” Laurence said, “and last week she let me touch her for the first time.”
Poor Scarlett! Always fated to be misunderstood.
“And, last but not least, the star of the family, our Daredevil and truly the coolest cat in town … Homer Cooper-Lerman!”
Zachary held up a poster-sized photo of Homer sniffing inquisitively at the camera lens. “And he’s blind!” Zachary announced with great pride. “He’s blind but he can walk around and everything!”
The crowd chuckled appreciatively as they clapped and cheered. It was Homer’s first official standing ovation.
“This is a cat who knows how to live,” Laurence said. “He’s got this huge world in that little head, and you can tell just by looking at him that every second of every day of his life is an adventure. I only wish,” he concluded, “that I could see what that cat hears.”
It was the first time I had heard Homer described by somebody else, the first time that I wasn’t the one who explained him or answered questions about him. But if anybody had asked me that night, What do you mean he has no eyes? How does he get around? How can a cat live with no eyes? my answer would have been different, and infinitely simpler, than the stock answers I usually gave.
I am Homer’s eyes. And he is my heart. And finally, the two of us—Homer and I—had found another person whose own heart was big enough to carry us all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is with gratitude and joy that I thank the following for their contributions:
Michele Rubin of Writers House, indisputably the world’s greatest literary agent. Michele is a staunch and savvy advocate, a warm and compassionate friend, and the strongest shoulder an emotional wreck of a writer like me was ever fortunate enough to lean on. There may be other agents out there as tough, smart, loyal, sympathetic, conscientious, and flat-out funny as Michele is, but I don’t know any of them.
There are perfectionists, and then there’s Caitlin Alexander, editor par excellence. I don’t think there was a single word of this book that didn’t fall under Caitlin’s appraising eye, and she forced me—every step of the way—to dig deeper and write better. Caitlin infused the writing and editing process with enough warmth, humor, and wisdom to make the creation of this book an even greater joy than I originally anticipated. I am also grateful to the enthusiastic and indefatigable Lea Beresford, assistant editor, and to Laura Jorstad, an outstanding copy editor.
Blind Cat Rescue and Sanctuary, Inc. There are thousands of cats like Homer, and most of them are considered unadoptable. Too many end up being euthanized. One of only two shelters in the U.S. dedicated specifically to caring for blind cats and kittens, Blind Cat Rescue offers as many as they can a permanent, loving home. They also provide a trove of resources for people considering adopting a blind cat, or whose cats have become blind due to illness or old age. I would also like to thank Alana Miller, director of Blind Cat Rescue—the very first person I reached out to when I was writing the initial proposal for this book, and a staunch supporter of it ever since. (www.blindcatrescue.com)
My sister, Dawn, and my parents, Barbara and David, who gave all four of us a home when we needed one, who gave me personally a love for animals that remains one of the great joys of my life, and who still offer, at least once a year, to take care of Homer in case, “God forbid, anything happens” to me.
Claire Moskowitz Berkowitz (1914–87), loving grandmother, inexhaustible trove of wit and wisdom, and the finest human being I have even known. There isn’t a single day that you aren’t in my heart.
Saundra and Bennett Lerman, the greatest imaginable parents-in-law, and this book’s biggest cheering section.
Andrea and Steve Kline. Honestly, where do I begin to thank you for two decades of friendship, laughter, support, advice, and, of course, the introduction to the man I married?
Dr. Patricia Khuly, Homer’s first “mom,” for bringing into my life what I didn’t even know was missing until it was there.
Keli Goff, the brilliant writer and pundit who made the shiddach to end all shiddachs when she introduced me to Michele. Keli has also offered more advice, moral support, and sympathetic late-night counsel that I can begin to express.
Dr. Henry and Stephanie Hirsch, my honorary second set of parents. I can’t imagine life as a Cooper without the Hirsches.
Dr. Spencer “Spike” and Sandy Foreman, for years of holiday dinners, laughter, and warmth.
The following friends and well-wishers: David Juskow, David Leopold, Richard Jay-Alexander, George Ratafia, Hillary Cole, Alexander Cole, Zachary Cole, Anise Labrum, Kate Rockland, Kris Carpenter, Digby Leibowitz, Michael Tronn, Brian Antoni, Laura Gould, Merle and Danny Weiss, and Samantha Abramovitz.
In loving memory: Tippi Cooper, Penny Cooper, Misty Cooper, Casey Cooper, Brandi Cooper, and Bud-the-Cat Labrum.
My fellow writers and commenters on Open Salon (www.open.salon.com), without whose early and vocal enthusiasm for Homer’s story, there might not have been a book in the first place: Rich Banks, Delia Black, Cynthia Blair, Pat Blankenship, Missy Blum, Amanda Campbell, Harry Chapman, Julie Connelly, Karen Dexter, Lauren Dillon, Lynn Dirk, Dana Douglas, Laurie Lynn Drummond, Todd Elner, Liz Emrich, Marple Fank, Susanne Freeborn, Kate Griffin, Allie Griffith, Bryan Harrison, Madeline and George Hayes, Ellen Hebert, Jennifer Hulme, David Jimenez, Roy Jimenez, Dorothy Johnson, Gary Justis, Mary Kelly-Williams, Melissa Kennedy, Lisa Kern, Marcelle Kube, Denise LeBlanc-Bock, Magpie May, Connie McCarthy, Beth McGee, Mari McNeil, Megan McSparren-Griffith, Christine Mermilliod, Susan Mitchell, Brinna Nanda, Sherie New, odetteroulette, Josephine E. Ortez, Mary Pacheco, Ann Patrykus, Professor Terri, Michael Rodgers, Aaron Rury, Jenni Ryan, Donna Sandstrom, Bill Schwartz, Cherie Siebert, Patricia Smith, Jane Smithie, Janet Spencer, Patricia Steiner, Shelle Stormoe, Suzn-Maree, Umbrellakineses, Denese Ashbaugh Vlosky, and Joyce Wermont.