They stalk each other sideways, backs arched and tails twitching. Their eyes lock but there is no sound until one breaks and runs, then the other pursues fiercely. They tumble and somersault over each other and end up wrestling on the floor in an enthusiastic kind of bear hug embrace, then each walks away with grace and as much dignity as they can manufacture, clearly pretending to have no interest in each other. It's a ritualized performance, sometimes repeated several times in a single day, sometimes not for weeks at a time but there is no malice in it, no intent to harm. The other cats watch with mild interest but are always careful to keep their distance - they never join in - only the young tabby and the older black cat are inclined to play this feline game and it always ends in a draw.
I watch all this and have to wonder why I can't be so casual and forgiving with human entanglements, why insignificant emotional fender benders have to turn into head on collisions. The power of reason should make me smarter than a cat, I keep reminding myself, yet they seem to have the edge - too wise to hold a grudge, too confident to take affront, too secure to care what other cats may think. Cats aren't compelled to compete or be vindicated, they fight and forget, they move on. Apologies aren't necessary - nothing in their interactions ever requires being sorry - and they never seek therapy or self help groups.
Cats just get along or go along, depending on their mood, taking what comes or doesn't with the same equilibrium, the same independent spirit and devil may care attitude.
Oh, to find the self assurance and untroubled life of a carefree cat.
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