An optimized life (feline version)

         The last week of the year seems to bring lots of year-end and New Year's resolution-type advice. Much of it seems to concern ways to optimize one's life. An optimized life seems to involve increasing the efficiency with which daily tasks are performed so that more can be accomplished while also pondering questions like "Do I have a sense of direction for my life?" and "Do I know what my purpose is?" It also seems to involve a daily schedule that begins with yoga or running at 6:00 AM and gives each hour its assigned task. 

     I fear my life was never optimized, and, four years into retirement, I suspect it is not likely to be. This situation could be cause for angst, but during the pandemic, I have spent more time with cats than with humans. Cats, at least our three, do not appear to be Pondering The Meaning of Life or seeking ways to accomplish more in any given twenty-four-hour period--or at least, not very often. Mittsy, the polydactyl adopted from a shelter in 2006, does occasionally appear to be Thinking Deep Thoughts.

    However, this sort of pondering is not typical. A favorite activity in warm weather is hanging out on her cat tree on the screened porch, watching the bird feeder. These days, she demands to go onto the porch, then approximately two and half minutes later demands to come in, then in an hour or so. . . but those who live with cats may have seen this behavior.

    Another of Mittsy's favorite activities is killing the cat toys, announcing at great volume that she has done so, and bringing the hunting trophies to The Human as gifts. Particular favorites are the fuzzy dice intended by a nephew as decorations for a classic car he was restoring but stolen off the coffee table by the feline who proceeded to attack them with great ferocity.

    As she has aged, however, Mittsy's favorite pastime appears to be napping, particularly if a sunbeam can be found. Today, she and Feraldine found good spots on a sofa (covered as protection against hairballs in yet another example of The Human's non-optimized life).

    Poor Feraldine, adopted as a backyard stray at approximately six months of age, almost certainly does not have an optimized life. We seem to have missed her socialization window, with the result that, after thirteen years in the house, she remains aware of herself as potential prey and not particularly trusting of humans or other living things (with the exception of Mittsy). She has, however, discovered that Humans are the source of Feline Greenies and can be trusted for occasional head rubs. She is also fond of naps in sunbeams.

    Mirabel, at seventeen the eldest of our girls, may be the most optimized. Certainly, she is the most active, getting her early exercise by walking on The Human until verticality is achieved and canned cat food is provided. She also spends the most time in the presence of human knowledge, staring at the computer screen and whatever book The Human happens to be reading. She likes the work desk. Occasionally, she even tries to help with projects.

    The cats have not told me what their purpose is. I am not certain they are conscious of having one. I do not know if they think they are living their best life. It is quite possible they are not, as The Human does not cook organic free-range chicken for them but buys their food at Kroger, and most of their toys are wine corks or old socks stuffed with catnip and crinkly plastic packaging. They do not get regular shipments from Chewy.com. But if purring is a sign of feline satisfaction, they seem to do a fair amount of it.

    

    Is contented optimal enough? That might be a question to ponder during a long pandemic winter.