The Book of Henry:
Lessons From an Optimistic Cat On Career Crisis, or, What To Do When Your Company Dumps You Out With the Trash!
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  Here are the adventures of Henry, the cat, and what he can teach us. This is a book in progress—a collaboration between Henry, and me in my work as a career counselor and writer. I know it’s a bit odd, but since I work from home three days a week, Henry hears me talking with my clients, he sees me editing their resumes, and observes how I coach them to run a proactive search. Henry, like most cats, is sensitive, intuitive and observant so he has something to say. Take a look at his first lesson and see what you think. Also check our Blog for notice of new lessons, and sign up on the Contact Me page if you’d like to hear from us.  
   






 
LESSON ONE: Don't Get Stuck
 
  I think it’s natural to retreat when hit with bad news. To hide and lick your wounds. And worse than that, bad news is like a hook that snags old hurts and hauls them into the present. But my advice is to get over your hang-ups about your birth, parents, early development, and all that. So when you’re hit with job loss (which, according to Jean is inevitable), when some executive somewhere who doesn’t even know your name (let alone that you’ve made millions for the company) decides your time is up, you’re only handling that loss, not all the old stuff.

I know this is easy to say and hard to do, but let me tell you about my early weeks as a kitten, so that you understand why I’m suggesting this. Here’s what happened in February a few years ago. My brothers and sisters and I and some other kittens are in a truck, it’s night and cold and rough hands throw us out onto the frozen ground. We huddled together and meowed for all we were worth. The wind made the trees creak and it was so dark I couldn’t see my paws in front of my face. Mom wasn’t there so we couldn’t snuggle up to her or find milk to comfort us.

Then we hear footsteps and see a light shining through the forsaken underbrush. A voice says, “It’s okay. I hear you. Don’t be afraid.”

We’re terrified, for it didn’t take much to figure out that if one if these two-legged creatures could dump us in the woods, there was no telling what another would do. But our legs were frozen and our voices were giving up. So we waited, our cries for help blown from our mouths.

“Oh, my,” he says. “Oh, my goodness. Look how many there are.” I’m very good at counting by feel so I can tell you that there were thirteen of us. Not all my litter, but all of us about the same age which was three weeks old.

And this man, his name was Larry as we found out, takes off his jacket in the blistering cold, picks each one of us up as gently as he can and then wraps us up and carries us back to his house. A few of the strong ones kept up the calls for help, but since I was at the bottom of this heap and felt the warmth of this man’s body through the jacket, I was happy to give in to whatever was going to happen.

It’s very bright in the house and so warm it almost hurts. I keep my eyes closed and hear the voice of a woman who quickly organizes things. She tells Larry to put us in a cardboard box near the heater and to keep the dog away from us. She says that she is going to get cat formula from the store and some bottles. I don’t care what it is as long as it comes soon. My sides feel as if they’re collapsing with hunger.

All that night, she and Larry take turns, picking each of us up, holding us close in a towel, and giving us milk. It’s not Mom, I can’t knead her soft stomach with my paws, or feel the vibrations of her purring, but I like their smell and gulp the milk down as fast as I can. Larry laughs and tells me I’m a pig. I choose not to be insulted. I understand that it’s said with kindness and is a backward compliment.

So, unlike your species, I don’t dwell on this. Don’t go into endless analysis. It is what it is (rotten), but I’m a kitten and have the gift of moving on. Think how simple your life could be if you did that. You’d have so much more time and energy to focus on finding your next job, and maybe even adding some fun into your life. Jean says this is a great time to evaluate where you are and what you like to do. You still have to experience the sadness of job loss, but don’t let it trap you. Don’t get stuck.
 
 
  Henry is giving part of his proceeds of this book to two of his favorite places: Best Friends Animal Society in Utah: www.bestfriends.org,  and Tabby's Place, a cage-free sanctuary for cats awaiting adoption: www.tabbysplace.org.  
                                            
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