Art and the philosophy of life

The Conversation…

Cat, Pet, Animal, Tabby Cat

“You’ve been posting pictures of those feral cats on your blog.”

“Yes.  Do you have a problem with that, and how do you always know what I put on my blog?”

“I know everything.  I keep telling you that, but you’re in denial and refuse to believe the truth that’s right in front of you..”


“You’re not putting any pictures of the cats around here, on your blog.”

“You’re right.  I haven’t taken any pictures of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I consider them to be my cats and since they live outside, I don’t want anyone hunting them.  I want to protect them.  No one can get the feral cats, because they live inside.”

“Rats,” he said.  “That’s a good answer.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Not that,” he said, biting his back leg.

“If we can find someplace to plug them in, I want to get heated beds for the cats who want to stay outside when it gets cold.”

“I’ll put Jinx on it.”


“It’s not fair that cats have such short life spans.”

“I know that.”

“Can you do something abut it?”

“I can’t. I wish I could,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Why can’t everything live the same amount of years as a tortoise?”

“I have no idea,” she said, miserably.  “I know people who don’t live as long as cats do.  Some die right away.  There’s no use trying to make sense of it, because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Birdsong, said that we come here to do certain things and when we’ve done them, it’s time for us to go.  Do you think that’s true?”

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe I came here to help you.”

“If you did, I can’t thank you enough,” she said, tears finally escaping and running down her face.”

“You’re leaking.”

She laughed, wiping her face with her hands.  “Let’s talk about something else.”

“What?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “I brought new treats.”

“Skippy died last night,” he said.

She hugged him and kissed his face.  “I’m so sorry.”

“He was a good fighter and he shared his kills with those who needed food.  He was always true to his meows.”

“Life and death don’t make sense.”

“What does?” he asked.

“Good point.”

“If things made sense, cats would be running the world.”

“That’s true,”  she agreed.

“I know. That’s why I said it.”

She smiled at him.

“I found a publisher for my book.”

“You didn’t really write a book, remember?”

“A cat I know lives at a publishing company and he said he’d show my manuscript to the man who makes the books.  You need to type it.”

“You didn’t write a book.  You wanted to write a book.  You started to write a book but you didn’t actually write a book.”

“I need a good cover, because people buy books because of their covers.”

“Okay, think of something that would attract people, cats and cat people.”

“I didn’t really write the book yet.  You know that, don’t you?”

She started laughing.

“Feel better?” he said, softly.

“Not really, but thank you for trying.”

“I think I should write a book.”

“So do I,” she said, running her hand down his back.

“Maybe a kitten on the front.  Everyone loves kittens.  Big eyes, tiny face.  You know how cute they are.”

“I do, but you’re still cute and you’re not a kitten.  You’re a brave, strong, beautiful cat.”

He sighed.  “Good leaders are followed because those who follow see something in them.  They trust them to make the right decisions for them, to protect them, sometimes from themselves.  You humans wouldn’t understand that, since your leaders are evil and corrupt.  They never think of others, just themselves and besides, good leaders just happen, they don’t run for office, or twitch their whiskers to get their own way.  To get power.  Do you know what I mean?”

“I do,” she said.  “Were you chosen by the other cats?”


“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“I didn’t ask for this responsibility.”

“You do a great job,” she said, softly.  “The others wouldn’t stay with you, if you didn’t.”

He licked his shoulder.  “I can’t save them,” he whispered.  “I can’t keep all of them alive.”

“No one can do that,” she said.  “No one.”

“This is a bad place.”

“Yes.  It is.”

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Because I’m insane, like all the other humans.  If we chose to come here, there’s no other explanation, other than Insanity.”

“I guess.”

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

“I’m going to nap now,” he said.

“Do you want me to watch over you while you sleep?”

“Be careful crossing the street,” he said, dismissively.

“Sure.  See you tonight.”

He flicked an ear at her and started dreaming.








Comments on: "The Conversation…" (4)

  1. ❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️

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