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The Reality Of Not Being Feline

Randomly observing the two little rascals that came into our lives about a year ago, I become more aware of the convergence of dream and reality while trying to identify my own image through their eyes in the scenery that envelops us all at Les Pierres.

I must be such a mystery to them, having two companions as feet they like to playfully attack at any unguarded moment of the day while I’m running around doing errands and chores, causing me an omnipresent risk of great disaster for which they will evidently never take any responsibility. Needless to say I don’t love them any less for it, as I like to refer to our relationship as mutualistic instead of commensal, even though there is no way of knowing they feel the same.

I guess this is the most common attraction all cats enkindle in humans generally: we need them to depend on us, as all should depend on us being lord and master, but we are gratifyingly surprised and charmed by the fact that their instinct releases us from that burden of liability, by doing exactly what they want whenever they want it. I know very few animals capable of delivering that kind of self-confidence whilst having compelling human eyes rest on them, ignoring our assumed physical and mental superiority and thus emphasizing our flaws, instantaneously making me jealous of the sense of identity they invoke on themselves by behaving all naturally.

To become a cat is an universal inspirational dream in itself, promptly awakening my earliest childhood memories of celebrated stories read to me around bedtime, alleviating any negative attitudes of resistance to go to sleep, because the narratives were so compelling. I can still recite the accompanying songs, any time.

The reality of not being feline became much easier to embrace during last weeks heatwave, by catching sight of their incapability to handle the calefaction, leaving them in all kinds of silly, helpless poses on the lawn, altogether shut down into play-dead-mode, fun to watch albeit somewhat disturbing too. I fully enjoyed their generous gift of these sprinkling moments of human supremacy, but was equally relieved to see them reclaim catism once it cooled down a bit at night.

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