HARD LIFE

Life sure is hard,” I lamented, drawing that fluffy fate tail close to my body. The words came out as a long low purr. “Yep, sure is tough already, and I’m still only a kitten. Can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I’m grown up.”

I pretended to be talking to myself, though I said the words loud enough for Smudge to hear up on the couch. She saw quickly through my little ruse, but this time was mercifully kind.

“Gets harder, Kid,” said Smudge, falling to one side as she groomed herself. She’d lick those big white paws clear to the elbow then rub them back over her ears.

I was at the patio door, looking out into the snowy courtyard. The light fell oblique through a gap in the thick shroud of gray clouds. For a moment it fell as a welcome respite from what had been a brutally cold string of days. The squirrels in the yard were frantic, digging and scratching for the smallest crumbs and morsels in a vain attempt to stave off the cold. Now and then one of them would throw a look my way, serving to deepen the gulf between us. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them and thought, “there but for the grace of Mother Earth go I.”

I was warm and cozy, and so very comfortable, at least physically. The daily drama just to survive of those squirrels, I have to admit, left me cold somewhere much deeper. A part of me felt guilty for it too, for as I had put on a couple pounds from eating when I wished( a furtive meow, or laying a chin sympathetically on a slipper is guaranteed to make the humans jump), the weight the squirrels packed on only a couple weeks before had withered with the Winter’s cold.

“So then what’s it all about?” I asked Smudge, without taking my gaze from the yard. The breaths from my little black nose fogged the window before me. She paused from licking her hind leg, and looked off into space.

“Comes down to one simple thing,” she replied philosophically, the thoughtfulness of her voice almost lost to the quiet of the room.

“What’s that?’ I asked, matter of fact.

“Appreciate what you got,” she began, “pray for those who don’t, and always strive for better not more.”

I’d do my best to live by those words, I figured, nodding respectfully to one of the squirrels. He put his paw on the window briefly and twitched his little nose and whiskers, which was as good as a wink and a nod. With that I closed my eyes and savored fully that moment of warm sun, not knowing when it would return again.