Cats and Zazen

So I'm sitting zazen in my hallway, staring at the blank wall. Somewhat bored out of my mind, because let's be honest, zazen can be a little boring.

Alice, one of my cats comes down the hallway. This is normal. What isn't normal is seeing me sitting there, completely ignoring her. So she gets curious. She climbs in my lap. She meows in my face, giving me full on nasty barf cat breath in the process. It seriously smells like she ate food made from vomit. This is normal, as she ate her brothers vomit the other day. Then vomited that vomit back up. Classy.

Anyway, this goes on for the remaining ten minutes. When my alarm goes off, she freaks out. Tail-puffed. Eyes wide. Silly me, I go to pick her up. She tears away from me, forgetting that she was begging for affection ten seconds earlier.

Moral of the story? As Zen as cats might seem, they really aren't. Or they've just transcended to another level of Zen.

Or they're just assholes. You choose.