Cat, Pet, Animal, Tabby Cat

"I've been thinking," he muttered.

"Should I be concerned?"

"About what?" he asked.

"About what you've been thinking."

"Why would you be concerned about what I was thinking?"

"Never mind," she said.  "Just tell me."

"Sometimes you're really weird."

"Maybe.  So, what were you thinking?"

"You know how you guys don't always understand each other?  I don't mean that you can't understand the words you use, I mean that some of you think a person is one thing when he's another, and stuff like that."

"Yes.  What about it?"

"The problem is that you know who you are, but everyone else sees you through their own eyes, which comes with their life's worth of experiences, prejudices, and beliefs.  So no one can possibly see the real you because they can only see what they can see because of who they are."

"I know.  That's true." she said.

"You knew that?"

"Of course I knew that."

"Why didn't you say anything about it?"

"Why would I?"

"Because it's important," he said, shocked at her lack of clarity.  "It's the biggest problem in the entire world."

"And there's absolutely nothing that can ever be done about it."

"But no one can ever know the real you."

"Right."

"Doesn't that bother you?" he asked.

"No.  Why should it?  People live on assumptions, the ideas of others, mixed messages, and emotions.  That is never going to change.  It can't."

He put his paw on her nose.  "Wait," he said.  "Pay attention.  I'm telling you that no one will EVER, in your entire lifetime know you as you know yourself.  Never know who you are, and you will never know anyone else."

"Why is your paw on my face, and I couldn't care less if anyone ever knows who I am, of vice versa."

"I was expecting a different reaction," he said, removing his paw.  "I don't think you have a clear understanding of how important this issue is. No one ever knows another person.  That has to mean something."

"It really doesn't, it's just the way things are around here.  Stupid and insane. If you care, or worry about things, you'll never be happy, because nothing makes any sense."

"I'm so glad I'm a cat," he sighed, laying down.

"You should be," she said, putting dry food into a bowl.

"What about death?"

"What about it?"

"Are you afraid of it."

"Why would I be afraid of it?  The only thing I'm afraid of is that I won't die, or when I do, there might not be cats, books and chocolate on the other side.  Other than that, there's really nothing to worry about."

"Maybe that's what hell is.  No cats."

"Too terrible to contemplate," she said, shivering.

"It wouldn't be hell for cats if humans weren't there."

"Maybe.  But we love you a lot, and I think some of you love us too."

"I guess," he said, "but if there were people there they would have to be nice ones."

"Most definitely," she agreed, petting him.

"Ya know, you guys think you're so smart and so much better than everyone else, but the truth is, all the things you are, all the things you're so proud of, just make you unhappy.  No other species is unhappy.  Just you."

"I wish I could argue with that."

"Mostly you work, compete, clean, lie, fight, kill, and dislike each other.  You're addicted to everything in order to escape the lives you've made for yourselves."

"I can't change that either," she said, giving him treats.

"We're all coming over tonight."

"You are?"  Oh, good.  I love when you all come over."

"Sardines?"

"Nope."

"Any hens, gerbils, mice, voles or..."

"No."

"I still haven't found a vole, you know."

"Oh, good," she said, kissing him.  "If you're coming over, I want to stop at the store, so I'll see you tonight."

"I think Jinx has a girlfriend.  A calico.  Her name is Rage."

"Rage?"

"She's a good fighter.  Tough, but nice.

"I'm happy for him."

"He'll bring her with tonight, so you can meet her."

"Can't wait," she said.  "Maybe it's time for you to find someone special."

"Naw," he said, licking his paw.  "I like to play the field."

She laughed.  "I love you."

"I know."

"See you later."

"Whatever."