Every so often, my newsletter will share a cartoon that I drew in the previous week that I love, but that The New Yorker didn’t want to buy. The above drawing is one such example. I have had cats all my life. One after the other. My first was named Sam, an orange cat I adored, then Kiki, a very fancy persian mix, got me through highschool. I won’t go through all of them, don’t worry. But now, I have three—actually, my husband and I have three cats. Two are elderly cats named after former Yankees, Melkie and Mo. One is named after my uncle and grandmother, Willie. We found Willie as a stray 4 week-old kitten, and while I was the first person to hold him, he only has eyes for my husband. He hisses and growls at me and runs away from me every time I walk into the room, as if I am going to murder him with a hatchet.
Thank you Liza. Your cartoons bring humor which helps sustain us in these times. Your thoughts and insights on the world, big and small, are of great value.
Thank you Liza. Your cartoons bring humor which helps sustain us in these times. Your thoughts and insights on the world, big and small, are of great value.
Enjoy your well earned vacation.
Dear Paul, Thank you for saying that, you are so kind. It emboldens me, really.