My cat Sally died yesterday and will be missed. She was perhaps too smart to fully immerse herself in the usual cat hobbies such as suspicious investigation of pieces of furniture that have always been there and reenactments of the evacuation of the American embassy in Saigon every time an unfamiliar person enters the house. I often caught her staring bemusedly at her own front paws, probably thinking that she could accomplish a lot more if they weren’t so evolutionarily retrograde. She was overweight most of her life, which is probably why she developed diabetes at 14, though she managed to wobble on to 18 and a half. In a way though I think she figured life out. Having come to understand early on that food and shelter were guaranteed in perpetuity, she decided to nap through most of the rest of existence. As opposed to my dim-witted younger cat, who stampedes like a maniac at the merest puff of wind. Sometimes life really is simpler when you’re smart.
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