If I were a cat.
I’d not be a House Cat.
I’d be an Outdoor Cat.
Outdoor Cat.
It’s because I think that’s what cats are made for.
Being outside.
Adventuring.
Buggering about.
Nearly dying 9 times.
Exploring.
Being creative.
Taking risks.
House cats.
House Cats, it seems to me, stare out of the window.
They stare at the world.
Through half-open eyes.
Blinking slowly.
Purring randomly.
Burping.
And all that punctuated by jumping down from the window ledge.
Sauntering into the kitchen in slow motion.
And dropping their big tummies down onto the kitchen floor.
Next to their reliably filled food bowls.
To graze.
Outdoor cat.
Whilst outside.
The other side of the window.
Outdoor Cat is going bonkers.
Successfully climbing trees.
Or successfully falling out of them.
Stalking the early bird.
That is stalking the unsuspecting worm.
Where sometimes the food chain clicks in and everyone is full.
Or sometimes the food chain fails and everyone goes hungry.
That’s the way it is with Outdoor Cat.
Cats.
So.
What are you in life, then?
An Outdoor Cat?
Or a House Cat?
And are you happy where you are?
If not.
Pop to the door.
Go on.
Give it a little shove.
It’s open.
