The luckiest cat in the world

I was lying on the sofa watching Ang Lee's first wuxia film, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Like most entertainment that humans find interesting, I found it more edifying to watch the film upside down as it seemed to stimulate something in my hypothalamus. There was something about the martial art movements of Zhang Ziyi and Chow Yun-Fat that reminded me of sweet, succulent birdies. I began to drool and twitch.

The seat of all feline killing resides in the hypothalamus located in the middle of the brain. Natural predatory behavior is hardwired and refined by loving feline mothers who teach by example. My own mom brought birds and rats to me in my youth -- alive and dead --and showed me how to efficiently kill so that the body would be intact. I lay on the sofa, my pot belly swaying to the action as swords blazed and bodies whirled and kicked. I could almost taste the blood. It is not enough to just live, to have the opportunity to kill is one of life's little treasures held as sacred by all kitties.

Like a Jade Fox, I have been known to leap into the air 15 feet above me to catch a bird that just happened to be flying by. In some of my legendary feats, witness have seen me dash to the top of very tall tree to grab hold of the tail feathers of a barn owl. Knowing no fear, I have taken on a 13-year-old street-fighting peacock and, in this case, lost -- the big bully got the better of me. I can still taste his colors.

I have also survived the potshots of a would be assassin, a next door neighbor and Vietnam vet, who took it upon himself to defend the neighborhood birds from cats. At least five cats had been killed by his gun before I reached the age to roam. My campaign manager discussed the peril of walking on to the property of this nut. I took her advice and stayed away. Finally he died of liver cancer several years into my tenure on the farm. The whole neighborhood had a celebratory cocktail party. I took it upon myself to kill my very first birdie on his front lawn. I ate the bird whole just after its heart stopped. The memory is indescribable.

As I lay on my back, I thought about the very high profile court case of a cat assassination in Texas. The murderer, a dedicated birder and founder of the Galveston Ornithological Society, was accused of murdering, in cold blood, a cat stalking endangered shorebirds. James M. Stevenson, a self-admitted repeat offender, says he killed many cats on his own property. "I made the choice of who dies, the cat or the bird," he says in a Wall Street Journal article published on September 1. In 2005 he decided to go after an alleged feral cat that was stalking piping plovers, but this time he shot the cat on public property.

One thing the media has missed in this court case is that in all 50 states it is illegal  to intentionally kill a cat. Anti-cruelty laws apply to all cats, whether they are a pet, abandoned, lost or feral. Unfortunately, In this case the judge declared a mistrial because the jury could not come to a unanimous conclusion that Stevenson had committed animal cruelty by murdering the cat. Now, no cat is safe from bird-loving gunslingers.

Birding societies came out of the woodwork to defend Stevenson's actions. Many of these organizations want cat owners to keep their cats indoors to protect wild birds. Those of us who were born and raised in barns miss the entire point of these efforts. There are whole campaigns out there mounted to keep cats from ever going outdoors as if we are the sole thing responsible for wild bird demise.

One hates to think that raw cat instinct is the sole source of the decimation of a whole species of birds and yet, I would suggest it was good eating for all that took part. This is just one of the cruel jokes that Mother Nature plays on society. I hate to think that eventually these campaigns to teach cats how to do something else other than kill would be successful. PETA has a campaign to shift cats away from eating a protein diet to eating a strictly vegetarian diet.  I find the whole idea hilarious.

While I lay on my back contemplating a nice rejoinder to email to the websites of some of these organizations, the Great Cat suddenly appeared on the pillow next to me.

"Taking on politics this evening, Cato?" He purred and his tail flicked right and left so rapidly, so completely rivaling the movement of a bird that for an instant, I thought to pounce on him, but then rethought the impulse. Attacking the Great Cat would probably get me killed or worse.

He smiled at me as if reading my mind. "All that you think, all that you see, the film on TV, the birdies, Mr. Stevenson and his problems, even those societies that would shut you indoors are nothing but pure consciousness. These come from your consciousness. They are reflected what is in your own mind."

He arched his eyebrows and his whiskers fanned out to frame his head. For a moment all I could see were his big golden eyes boring in on me. His tail flicked even faster creating a hypnotic effect. I could feel myself levitate and my consciousness become buoyant.

"Do you know who god is?" He whispered in my ear. I heard the thrumming of the universe and I was caught up in the vortex of life spinning without becoming dizzy. I felt alive and refreshed as if on holiday.

"God is the pure consciousness which is in you. The entire universe is pure consciousness.  God is not distant from you. He is not up there far away," he pointed at the sky. "He does everything, he eats what he kills, he breathes, he puts his pants on one leg at a time. He shoots the gun. He kills the bird. He is an assassin and a savior all at once. He dwells in the cave of one's own heart. He transcends the mind and the fives senses. Though it appears he does nothing, he does everything. He holds everything together."

As he spoke we rose into the air in unison. The Great Cat and I tumbled slowly over and over like dice on a craps table. Suddenly he and I were leaning against the edge of a real craps table. All that is a Las Vegas casino came crashing in around us, lights, noise, smoke and the smell of money won and lost. I had the dice in hand and he was placing his bets. The Great Cat threw a $500 chip into the center and yelled "This one is for God!" I rolled a 12 and he scooped up a pile of mice, shoving a few into his pockets and the rest he placed on his tongue. He smiled and swallowed them whole. I could see a trickle of blood on his chin.

Once again we rose into the air and tumbled over and over his big golden eyes flashing. I was relaxed and happy. I found myself laughing, my belly jiggled from side to side. I could not stop laughing. I found myself sitting in the center of a roulette wheel whirling round and round. Black and red, black and red flashed before my eyes over and over and over. There was a group gathered around placing their chips.

The croupier spun the wheel. "Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets, place your bets please," the little man said this sweetly and efficiently; his only line in the great play of life. The Great Cat placed his chips on the number 19 and watched the ball rolling and bouncing. Again the thrumming, the vibration of the universe rocked me.

"Since the omnipresent infinite consciousness alone is present at all times, diversity is absurd and impossible," the Great Cat whispered amidst the buzzing as the little ball hopped and bopped its way around the wheel.

"Belief in the existence of a goblin, be it PETA or the American Bird Conservancy, creates it. Belief that there is anyone other than you in this world establishes duality. There is you and only you. There is no other than you. When god, the non-dual being is known, duality vanishes instantly. It is all, it is supreme blessedness and peace, it is beyond expression. It is transcendent. It is supreme." The ball dropped onto the number 19 and stuck. The Great Cat smiled fiercely and collected a huge pile of songbirds the croupier pushed towards him.

"Cato, move your attention to the infinite, to the being in your heart," he whispered to me over the table as he scooped up the pile of birdies. In that instant, an instant when I would have been sorely temped to grab a body or two and to suck the meat from the soft small bones of the birds, I had no desire to eat or to kill. I was happy. I was satisfied. I was supremely contented.

I turned to the Great Cat with a question, but he was gone. All that was left was a crumpled cocktail napkin, a martini and a huge pile of chips.

On the napkin he had written: "One should worship the lord of the three worlds by any means possible. How should you contemplate him? Here he had drawn a small finch being bitten in half by a rather large black cat. "God is pure instinct. He has a voracious appetite and an all consuming passion."

"God is pure intelligence, he is as radiant as a hundred thousand suns risen together. He is the light that illumines all lights. He is the inner fire, resplendent and warm. Bath in his luminescence and he will give you everything. He touches all, he tastes all, he hears all, he thinks through all though he is beyond thinking. He does everything at all times, he bestows whatever one thinks of or desires, he dwells in all, he is the all, he alone is to be sought by all. Thus should you contemplate him."

Suddenly, I was back on the sofa. The credits for the film were running. I stirred and rolled over. Next to me was a pile of very small bones. My pockets bulged with chips. The Great Cat had left an round trip airline ticket to Las Vegas on his pillow. The reservation was made for the "Luckiest Cat in the World." I looked around. There were no other cats in the vicinity.

Comments

[Cheysuli]

Very profound. I am glad that I am not the only cat disturbed by people who want to force true carnivores like cats to try and eat vegetarian. Most Buddhists understand that you allow a creature his nature--and I am what I am.

[Victor Tabbycat]

You haf pockets? I don't haf pockets.

WI was gonna make it legal to hunt feral cats, but then-Gov Tommy Thompson said no.

I only dream of catchin a real bird or mouse. And I'd pounce that tail.

[Diamond Emerald-Eyes]

One of the neighbors complain because they see me eat bird. Bean said "You like eggs for breakfast right?" "Well that's different!" "No, it's not. She just likes her eggs a little bit more well done than you like your eggs." and that was end of conversation.

[Gattina]

Reminds me of Rosie and Arthur who are constantly doing martial arts ! Cats are born with the hunting instinct and a crazy neighbor shouldn't interfere in nature ! My little kitten Rosie has never seen a mouse but boy, has she a hunter instinct !
You say there is a law in the States for cruelty against cats. Then I can't understand why so many cats are declawed and people still let do it !! That's very cruel and I heard of this for the first time when I started reading Cat blogs. No vet would do that here in Europe unless there is a serious and medical reason, not for furniture scratching purposes !