Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Millennium Catalog

The golden cat sits in the golden sun. This is something he has been doing for nigh on a decade now. He is no longer the jumpy kitten he used to be, hurtling around the bedroom and bouncing up and down.

He came to us, abandoned in a storm-drain, at the turn of the century. Now, into the second decade of the new century, there are days on which I wonder when he will no longer be with us.

On days like that, I write about him. I take photos of him. It is all very sentimental and unproductive; some might say it is irrational. But our definitions of 'rational' and suchlike are human, and humans shouldn't be allowed such liberties. As research has shown, removing emotion from humans reduces motivation for any kind of behaviour, including rational behaviour.

The golden cat in the golden sun is no mere meat-machine. He is a friend, despite having little in common with me, this non-feline who cannot think with his mind or perceive with his senses. And I think, as he turns and decides to trot over to me, that he has the cat-equivalent label for me.

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