I used to consider myself a spiritual person.
I mean, I wasn’t super-religious or anything, but I enjoyed feeling in touch with my surroundings, other people and the mystical higher power who rules it all.
But lately, I’ve felt rather disconnected.
I think it’s because the cat pissed in my zen garden.
My zen garden was a special place.
I made it from smooth stones and driftwood and the blue-gray sand I found on the Oregon Coast one day last summer.
I was feeling particularly in awe of the ocean slamming into the jagged outcroppings of rock out from the shore there.
The rocks were unyielding, the ocean violent.
But no matter how strong the rocks stand, they ultimately become smooth and offer no resistance. And no matter how the sea churns, it always must compete with the cliffs and mountains at my back.
A good walk on a good beach gives one a little perspective.
I gathered some stones, driftwood and sand that were once grand, unyielding rocks and mighty trees, so I would always remember the zen of that place.
I brought it home, and it served its purpose.
Then my roommate’s cat peed in it.
How appropriate — from spiritual reminder to litter box in a few moments.
How would you folks like it if a cat peed on the communion wafers? Not a pleasant thought, huh?
So, that’s when I decided cats are evil, evil beings sent to destroy all that is good and right with the world.
They claw one’s couch until all that remains is a heap of stuffing and shredded upholstery.
They destroy the beautiful blinds that shield one’s sleeping eyes from the evil morning sun.
They attack one’s toes while one is attempting peaceful slumber.
The worst part is they don’t even like people.
Cats “tolerate” people.
Sure, they can be cute — when they’re too young to think themselves superior to the dumb, featherless, biped who that fills the food bowl and cleans the litter box.
Occasionally, they grace us with a little ankle rub or some purring, but only if 1) the cat is hungry, 2) the cat wants to be pampered and 3) the cat can take time out of its busy nap schedule to grace us with its presence.
There is no zen to the cat.
They’re all take and no give.
They act like perpetual divas and expect us to eat it up and cater to their every whim.
And then, they piss on our spiritual symbols.
Jeez, I really miss that little jerk.