Kittens Kind of Changed My Life

Sometimes things happen in life for no particular reason and sometimes it just sucks. One of the inexplicably terrible aspects of being human and having our own ideas and thoughts is the idea of death itself. It's a scary thought isn't it? To simply cease to exist, and not only cease to exist, but to know that the world will continue to move about as you exit.

Many people become so accustomed to living their own life through their own eyes, they forget that others are living a life as well. Everyone is the star of their own movie, living every scene only as they would, thinking the importance of it is above all other importances. Above politics, economics, socialization and even family.

But, what I learned this past week was such a plotted out, detailed, gut-wrenching event, that all I could do is look away and accept it. Accept it as a part of life that will always happen. The shitty side.

I was at my grandma's house, which is down the street from my house, feeding a pack of kittens. One was black, one was grey and one was stunning, shining with a golden and orange-hued coat. They were all weary of strangers, hiding beneath the house like a pack of orphans who couldn't trust a soul.

Slowly, as the days dragged on, I gained their respect. I left out treats for the first couple of days and waited for them to come out, then slowly they eased into my presence. On the fourth day, they finally approached me willingly and one of them even ate out of my hand. I could feel the slight, wet flurry of tongues making my palm moist and clean of the snacks I had previously held. On the sixth day, they even followed me home and slept beneath my porch.

Then, one day the kittens stopped coming to my house and I stopped seeing them around the neighborhood, walking on the sidewalk with the playful exhuberance only a kitten could have. I didn't shed a tear, sully my face or fall into any kind of depression, really. The only feeling I had was one of slight worry. The worry was in the back of my head and didn't effect my tasks throughout the day. Work was fine, school was fine, social life was fine. But the absense of the kittens was inexplicatorily feeble. A weak memory that only processed mild concern.

Then, one day I was driving home from work and there on the road was the orange hued kitten, squashed on the street like a pancake. The brutal reality of life was there in front of me. Things can be cute and cuddly and warm, but when something falls into the naiivity of joy, they lose the reality of life.

I let out a slight gasp and remembered what Kurt Vonnegut said about death. So it goes.

Posted in: Kittens