How Cats (Nearly) Ruined Everything
By Susan Flansburg
There must be more abrupt ways to end a meditation session. But I haven’t experienced any.
This morning, amid peaceful quiet - serene, even - 3 things happened in quick succession:
Kiki jumped atop the cat tree alongside me, where Luna slept.
Kiki and Luna engaged in an immediate and loud skirmish.
Kiki leapt back down, toppling - and breaking - my full coffee cup.
It took my poor brain a moment to digest what had happened.
Meantime, my computer, charge cord, and a stack of important papers and books lay in the path of sure destruction as coffee streamed and pooled about.
Never mind the upholstery and rug.
But all I could think, as I began cleaning, was: How I had looked forward to that coffee!
And: I loved that cup!
It had been a gift from my daughter and son-in-law a few years ago, and I had used it every single day since.
All things are impermanent.
Yes.
But we may be grateful for other things: the cats both lived to fight another day. I have other cups and more coffee. And, although I, too, was covered in coffee, it wasn’t too hot.
One more thing.
The gift remains, even if the physical evidence has moved closer to its ashy beginnings.
The gift has become part of my own heart … and my heart, like yours and the hearts of all those you love, will continue to love somewhere, and in some way, forever.
P.S. Do not be fooled by the peacefulness of the photo above. Kiki, the tuxedo cat, specializes in sneak attacks. Thomas, her bed buddy, was not involved in today’s shenanigans, although he watched with great interest, and, later, supervised cleanup.
