This happened ten years ago when it was easier to delete email. I miss those days, and I miss my best “coach cat” PK who has since passed on.

One over-booked morning, I knew I only had about five minutes before a client was going to call. I turned on the computer, promising myself that I would not read my e-mail. I just wanted to see how many were (now that’s a rationalization if I ever heard one).

My cat, PK, crawled into my lap as she always did when I sat in front of the monitor.

When I clicked “New Mail,” the screen filled with addresses. I complained about my lack of time, about the shackle of work I had created, about the people who had nothing better to do than to send me jokes and chain letters and about the daunting list of mail I’d have to answer if I didn’t eliminate some of the messages I faced.

Surely, I had time to read one or two before my call (I’m also good at justification).

While I stressed over my dilemma, PK stretched her body as cats do. She reached one leg toward the sky, then slowly lowered it to my keyboard, resting her paw on the…delete key.

The addresses on the screen vanished one-by-one. My mouth dropped quicker than my hand. By the time I grabbed her paw, the screen was clear.

There was nothing I could do. PK solved my problem. I turned off the computer and took her with me into the kitchen. I gave her a special treat, made myself a cup of tea and curled up on my couch with the telephone to wait for my client to call.

Needless to say, our conversation was magical. She declared me a wizard among coaches. I didn’t tell her that I learned from an even greater coach, my cat.