Sammy and Willy
As much as I can kill Sammy sometimes, for all his crying when he is kept indoors during bad weather, I have to feel sorry for him, as he always seems unhappy and disgruntled. There are times when he appears content enough in his dozing, but other than that, he looks as though he might rather commit suicide than continue this pointless existence, this charade that we call life.
I am inclined to blame the neutering, the taking of his sex life. I do not think it bothers the female cats to be spayed, but I can imagine how the male may feel that he is deprived of the essence of life, that the heart of life has been stolen from him, and that the life left to him is but a cruel mockery.
Or do I project too much?
I think of Willy. He had a short life lasting only a year and a summer, but he seemed quite content with his existence, the life of the tomcat always on the prowl for a cute kitty number, a hunter in the great game of life. It was a rough life; I know he got into fights sometimes and did not always get the best of it, judging by the wounds he brought home with him. But he was satisfied: you win some and you lose some. He was not existing just to be existing.
.
I am inclined to blame the neutering, the taking of his sex life. I do not think it bothers the female cats to be spayed, but I can imagine how the male may feel that he is deprived of the essence of life, that the heart of life has been stolen from him, and that the life left to him is but a cruel mockery.
Or do I project too much?
I think of Willy. He had a short life lasting only a year and a summer, but he seemed quite content with his existence, the life of the tomcat always on the prowl for a cute kitty number, a hunter in the great game of life. It was a rough life; I know he got into fights sometimes and did not always get the best of it, judging by the wounds he brought home with him. But he was satisfied: you win some and you lose some. He was not existing just to be existing.
.