Table Scraps #4: Chicken, My Cat - heesun’s table
The first cat I saw on the ACC’s page was Chicken. As described by the shelter employees, he was a micro-banged, black and white cat with a goatee and a need for patience and time. We met eyes, I slow blinked, and that was that. Chicken was my cat. Really, I was Chicken’s. This will be a newspaper wrapped, twine-tied collection of the past year. A little schleppy, but endearing. Might I add, how lovely to enter this year via a Table Scraps post - the fourth edition1, too. SUFFS closed January 5th. I filed for unemployment a few days later. Motivation towards great performance was low. Mostly, I was aiming to not have egg on my face in the room or on the Zoom. Recovering from last year’s run was my main priority, and subsequently led to this shift in my relationship to the work. Frequently, I’ve looked back to a conversation I had with a colleague on Miss Saigon. With a blunt2 in their hand, this colleague looked me in my twenty year old eyes, full of verve and wonder, and told me, “Som
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