Nature of the Beast

fluffy kitty cat This is an essay I wrote in college about my cat Ambrocious. I have been a little worried about him recently, since he is losing some weight and he didn't want to eat his treats today. Other than that, he doesn't have problems, but he is an old cat. This kind of works out because I wanted to write about him today.

As a published writer and an aspiring journalist, my trouble in coming up with something to write about in the topic of nature is, ironically, unnatural.  How can someone well-versed in the English language and experienced in projecting thoughts in the written word now be so inept at something done a hundred times before?  I admit, this writer’s block is strange to me, and spending the last week and a half trying to push the block out of the way hasn't gotten me anywhere, except tired and in bed too early in the night.

All this cat hair all over me is also unnatural.  Makes me unnaturally ugly, a screaming mess against my black clothing.  The cat is also very unnatural in and of itself.  His name is Ambrocious, a name no natural cat would have. Ambrocious also enjoys spankings. This isn’t even something that humans naturally enjoy, and has been proven detrimental to childrens’ health.

The whole thing naturally goes something like this: prowling in the night, Ambrocious spies his prey sitting obliviously behind the ottoman. He ducks low on the cold, hard floor preparing for the pounce as his prey has set itself too close into the lion’s den. He holds still for a minute, stalking the prey’s non-movement. The prey has no chance, its camouflage useless, the shiny gold and purple against the cloudy-skied carpet. He leaps; the two front paws crush his prey as it echoes a crinkly scream. He gnaws on the ball of foil, as the prey dies a noisy, crumbled, death. Ambrocious is then bored and in need of attention, also known as the spankings. As a kitten, Ambrocious’ previous owner carried him around like a baby patting his bum with everlasting maternal love. Now, the six-year-old cat, comes to the casting couch to win his role as World’s Cutest Kitty, failing to realize that he is only one in contention. He tantalizes with his sleek, long orange and white fur and his kitty green eyes. Ambrocious also has unnaturally long fur, as he is not a Persian, but probably has the longest fur of any cat that is not a Persian.   Ambrocious also has a tendency to lick me, like a dog, in the face, which is also very unnatural.  I thought that was his way of showing affection, but it’s recently come to my attention that the cat could just be cleaning me.  I already unnaturally take a shower once a day with modern unnatural plumbing in order to smell, unnaturally, like apples.  I don’t need to be unnaturally cleaned by an unnatural cat.

Ambrocious can’t really help himself, having spent his entire life indoors eating dissolvable cat chow and following his humans every time they enter the kitchen (he doesn’t want food, the kitchen is just a great place for him to get the humans to look down at him and admire his unnaturalness). But, all this unnaturalness can actually be derived to the single fact that Ambrocious is neutered, a victim of a very unnatural process.  Therefore, Ambrocious’ lack thereof is the inherent and essential quality that explains everything about him.  Yes, things would be very different if Ambrocious did not lack any anatomy.

What is the inherent or essential quality or character of humankind, which cannot be changed?  The Ancient Greeks argued that it was our ability to reason, our ability to think beyond inherent instincts and desires and to provide a perspective that is bigger than ourselves.  And I’ve come to find that this perspective is about the size of a kitty as in the great scheme of things, we are only about the size of a kitty comparative to the universe.