Learning From The Cat

Saw a black and white cat today, sauntering through the grass in the park, a mouse of the deceased persuasion gently cupped in her mouth.

There was no group of cats standing to the side, judging her. “Are you really going to eat that?” “Wrong! Eating animals is murder!” “Here, try this veggie burger instead.”

Not once did that cat stop and look at herself in a puddle or a mirror, comparing her appearance to that of other cats — although in truth she looked a tad “healthy” as my mother would say in her polite manner of avoiding the word “chubby.” (“She does her job well,” the park ranger said this morning of the cat, not of my mother — although I suppose my mother did her job well too.) Not once did the cat think about catching fewer mice, or worry that she was working too hard, or fret that she was getting “bulky.” I’m betting she took a nap in the sun too.

The cat ran when she had to, jumped when she needed to, used her strength in pursuit of her function, and “killed” her workout. She did what cats do, and didn’t even stop to worry about things that were not of importance to her life …

 

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