Don't Dismiss Your Four-Legged Editors

When my old cat, Elroyblues, was alive, he used to sit patiently under my desk and listen intently as I read him chapters from the books I was writing. It was the moral support I needed as a writer. No matter what I read him, he was always interested. Then my husband and I realized that the poor cat was going deaf.  When Elroy eventually passed away at 17+ years, our Chihuahua-Dachshund-Pomeranian-Papillion mix, “Streetboy” took his place. But things haven’t been going that well in the editing department. Or listening, for that matter. 

“Oh my God, Jim! The dog just got up and peed on the wall as soon as I finished reading him the latest chapter of my novel. Do you think it’s a sign that my book is in trouble?”

“No, I think it’s a sign that the dog had to take a leak!”

“Then why did wait he wait till I was done with the chapter? I swear, he’s trying to tell me something.”

“Yeah, he is. Take me for a walk before my bladder bursts!”

“I’m serious. Usually he’s very attentive.”

“Lying on the rug next to your computer and licking parts of his body that no animal should smell is hardly attentive.”

“He doesn’t always do that. He looks at me when I read him paragraphs or chapters. And he tilts his head.”

“He’s straining to figure out what you want. What was in that last chapter? Maybe you read him something that sounded like ‘Go pee on the wall.’”

“That’s not funny. He was very interested in catching the murderer.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, he sat up, pawed at my leg and looked extremely enticed and engaged. Heck, half of my seventh graders never displayed so much energy!”

“I hate to break it to you but that wasn’t energy. Or interest in your book. That was the dog begging to go outside. Face it; you’ve got to find another listener.”

I took a slow, deep breath and stared directly at my husband. “You’re right,” I replied. “When can you start?”

The man was speechless. Then, he picked up the dog, tucked him under his arm and muttered, “I’m driving him to the dog park. Try one of the cats.”

“They’re not like Elroy. They chew up papers on the desk, they walk across the keyboard, they paw at the screen and they bite the wires. It’s impossible!”

“But they don’t lift their legs on the wall, do they?”

“No, I suppose not. Then again, maybe I’ll just walk the dog more often. Let’s face it, a dog with a penchant for editorial review is hard to find.”