By Steve Stricker

Columnist

Christmas Day, today, 2024 – Merry Christmas, y’all.

“Steve.” “What Jag (Jaguar)?” under my home office desk, solid black good luck wonder cat, ‘God’s cat,’ who adopted me in 2016 when he (thought she) was one year old, abandoned by an Ole Miss co-ed I think by the smell of perfume on his fur, the most intelligent animal I’ve ever been around, best relationship by far, animal or human, but OCD dude can tell time and has me up every morning at 5:00 am, including this one!  And is the most free cat on this planet, inside, outside – I just do whatever he asks.

“It’s Christmas Day 2024, Stephen, where are you physically and mentally?” “Wow! That’s a loaded question, Jaggy. Why did you ask that?”  “Because we felines have a special gift of perception and discernment to you our lesser humans and I’m getting unique vibes from you my brother, especially today. And by the way, thank you for letting me adopt, train and own you.”  “Oh Jag, I couldn’t not do so. But honestly, did not want any animal, especially a cat, being a dog guy, that I knew nothing about!  You have done a fantastic job letting me know how to follow all your commands.”

“You have been somewhat easy to train, Steve, and I love the freedom you give me, to come and go, in and out, sleep wherever in the house I want, to eat what I tell you, and I know your routine.”  “Ha! I have no choice, master!

“Okay, Stephen, pour one of your swell bourbons, sit back in your office chair, slowly sip, and tell me what your thoughts are on this massive day celebrating the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  “Wait Jag, I’m the behaviorist here!” “Yes, but I’m the intuitive cat, remember?” “Sorry master, forgot my place for a moment.”

Desk chair squeaks as I lean back, light sip of Blanton’s smooth bourbon, special Christmas gift to me, deep breath, “Oh Jag, I’m here of course physically in the only place on Earth that I want to be, ‘Camelot,’ Oxford, Mississippi my forever home, and Ole Miss one of the premier universities in the world which brought me down here from Southeast, MO in 1988, received my Ph.D. and worked on Campus for over 15 years – but my mind like bird shot, is all over the place.”

“Through all of life’s stuff, Jag (which is a lot), I see our modest birth home, St. Henry’s Catholic School, Rectory, Convent, Church, and large playground across the street from our house in Charleston, MO a few miles from the Mississippi River, and Christmas Day, at Mass in church singing in the choir, Monsignor Schmidt, Sister Wilma, church full, friends, relatives, visitors.”

“On the Fourth Sunday of Advent, the last purple candle was lit on the Advent Wreath, the ‘Angels Candle or Peace Candle.’ Before Mass on Christmas Day, the large white candle in the center, ‘Christ Candle’ for Purity was lit. For me, along with our newborn savior, uh, Santa was also there, Jag at our warm home, a few gifts to open after Christmas Eve Mass with my hero mom, Gert, dad, and three older sisters, Mary Ann, Pat, Paula.”

“Jaggy, I can forever see and smell our wonderful Christmas tree decorated by me and those three brat sisters, but my all-time favorite memory was my dad lifting me up to place that special plastic angel on top of the tree that I still have.”

“Ha, I love you Steve for you are so transparent, so real, so human.”  “I love you too, Jag, so very much! So where are you?” “Oh, Steve…I’m alive because of you and your wonderful sanctuary house on a quiet cul-de-sac, large yard with small woods, all types of animals which provide me with endless joy and entertainment. But most important to me is the freedom you give me to pretty much do what I want, to come and go, in and out and especially love our Happy Hours on the Ole Patio and bedtime routine – thank you.” “Whew, thank you, Jaguar.” And thank you Oxford Eagle readers.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Steve lives in Oxford and has his Ph.D., in Counseling from Ole Miss.