I took one of our permanent cats to the vet this evening—the one who's going to eventually be on an iron lung—and as I sat in the waiting room with her and peeked at her through the carrier, I realized that her tiny walnut brain had no idea what is going on today. She has no worries, no excitement, no overwhelming insecurity of what tomorrow might bring. She just sat there being a little perturbed that her dinner hour was being so inconveniently interrupted.
After I got home from a wonderfully exhilarating dance class, I corralled the temporary kittens, fed them, and rolled around on the floor with them. As I looked at their little faces and thought about their even smaller, let's say raisin-sized masses of grey and white matter, I had a similar thought. In their minds, tomorrow will be just another day. They will continue to be nourished and loved, and life will go on as it always has without much noticeable change or consequence. And probably ours will too.
Mostly, I just envied their mental and emotional freedom, even if it isn't their conscious choice. Is it possible to get there? I wonder...
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