Are we living in a post-truth society? A society filled with alternative facts, fake news, and conveniently absent denominators? It seems we’re more thirsty for truth now than ever before: reaching for our smart phones at every turn; then quenching our still-parched-throats with reality TV and memoir. Memoir, the art form of sifting through the mud of your life, looking for gold flakes, buried treasure, and the ultimate prize: veracity.

“My mama forgot to feed the cats!” Lake said, vetting his audience for their response to his mama’s cat-sitting shame. The shame of uncomfortable truths.

“The most interesting information comes from children, for they tell all they know and then stop.” ~Mark Twain

What happened in the intervening period from innocence to now? Are we so empty inside that we’re starved for approval? Are we so scared of rejection that we feel the need to lie? Perhaps there is an abundance of care and forgiveness available, after all. Perhaps we can be loved for our tired, poopy, messy selves. Perhaps people understand when we forget to feed the cats, even expect that we will sometimes forget to feed the cats. And then they love us anyway, in spite of this, because of this. They love us for our particular brand of forgetfulness, and the way in which we forgot. Maybe we can take children’s lead and simply blurt it out, like ripping off a Band-aid, exposing the truth to the open air so that we can heal.

Looking into a Lady Kitty’s trusting face–there is only truth. Lady Kitty is open, honest, and straightforward. She expresses her needs, her pleasures and her pains in no game of deceit, no conniving for power. And yet, her every wish is answered. She is loved unconditionally.

Honesty, how refreshingly simple. As fresh as a four year old, or a four-month-old-baby with a daisy.