Why Life Would Be So Much Better If I Were A Cat
1. I could be lazy without repercussion. I've shamed myself for many years for being lazy; why? I enjoy it so much. Nothing pleases me more than to curl up in my nest with my eyes half-closed over the pages of a book. What's wrong with that? Nothing much except I have to earn my living and am expected to justify my existence somehow. Cats do not have this burden: cats are not expected to contribute to society. Now, I want to contribute to society, but I don't want to have to. Cats can sit there while humans rant about their uselessness, and give in reply that little tail twitch that says, Go jump in the lake, only possibly ruder.
2. Speaking of: I want a tail. I have always wanted a tail. Moaning Myrtle may have made fun of Hermione for growing one, but really, nothing would make me happier. Cats' tails wiggle at the end when they're pensive; they swish widely in anger; they stretch high, with a little jaunty flip at the top; they bush out in fear. They're the scepters of the animal world, and everyone knows that scepters are only held by royalty. In addition to which, they aid a cat in its preternatural sense of balance.
3. Cats are familiars of the world of fairy-tale. Streamlined, agile, able to climb trees and walk fences without effort, cats seem to have the ability to dodge between worlds with impunity. Nuff said.
4. Cats smile like the Mona Lisa.
See, if I was a cat, all this would be mine. As it is, it is all mine, but with a price, a price I sometimes resent paying. And then, like Prufrock, I mutter to myself: "And how shall I presume?" Ah, I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled...except I have always worn the bottoms of my trousers rolled, as my legs are too short for the monstrous things they make nowadays.
If I were a cat, I wouldn't have to wear trousers at all. Or be in a Broadway play.
1. I could be lazy without repercussion. I've shamed myself for many years for being lazy; why? I enjoy it so much. Nothing pleases me more than to curl up in my nest with my eyes half-closed over the pages of a book. What's wrong with that? Nothing much except I have to earn my living and am expected to justify my existence somehow. Cats do not have this burden: cats are not expected to contribute to society. Now, I want to contribute to society, but I don't want to have to. Cats can sit there while humans rant about their uselessness, and give in reply that little tail twitch that says, Go jump in the lake, only possibly ruder.
2. Speaking of: I want a tail. I have always wanted a tail. Moaning Myrtle may have made fun of Hermione for growing one, but really, nothing would make me happier. Cats' tails wiggle at the end when they're pensive; they swish widely in anger; they stretch high, with a little jaunty flip at the top; they bush out in fear. They're the scepters of the animal world, and everyone knows that scepters are only held by royalty. In addition to which, they aid a cat in its preternatural sense of balance.
3. Cats are familiars of the world of fairy-tale. Streamlined, agile, able to climb trees and walk fences without effort, cats seem to have the ability to dodge between worlds with impunity. Nuff said.
4. Cats smile like the Mona Lisa.
See, if I was a cat, all this would be mine. As it is, it is all mine, but with a price, a price I sometimes resent paying. And then, like Prufrock, I mutter to myself: "And how shall I presume?" Ah, I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled...except I have always worn the bottoms of my trousers rolled, as my legs are too short for the monstrous things they make nowadays.
If I were a cat, I wouldn't have to wear trousers at all. Or be in a Broadway play.
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