Strength

I want to talk to you for a moment about my two cats.

Felix is about two years old. He is incredibly athletic, with an easy five-foot vertical leap from a sitting position, and has even cleared higher with a running start. He is a compact lump of muscle. A rescue with a rough past, he is covered in scars from past cat fights—and who knows what else. He isn’t conventionally attractive as cats go, except to us.

Mr. Felix

Chonk, also called Mouse, is about ten years old, arthritic, and recovering from being “grounded”—a term I had never heard before but which meant she was so overweight she couldn’t walk at all. She still can’t walk properly and limps on all four limbs. In her journey toward the best life we can give her, she has lost about a quarter of her body weight so far, between our care and the efforts of the rescue shelter. She can now go up and down stairs, though with some difficulty. She plays a little, swatting at toys if they get close, but her single favorite hobby is hissing at, swatting at, and practically spitting at her brother, Felix.

Miss Mouse

Mouse is a very broken little girl. She is helpless, and she knows it, so when Felix wants to play—and he always wants to play—her reaction is to claw at him. Not in play, but with real intent, biting and scratching. Yet he keeps coming back, offering his belly in invitation, trying to play tug-of-war with a string, or just sitting near her. Felix could absolutely destroy her. He is probably three times stronger and ten times more agile.

And yet, he has never once clawed her, bitten her, or even shoved her aside with more force than necessary to get up and walk away when she lashes out.

Felix is stronger, and he is kinder—because he knows he is in no danger. Mouse is weaker, but she must constantly display her strength through aggression because, deep down, she is defenseless.

I love them both in their own ways, but if we had to emulate one, we should emulate Felix. Make yourself strong in spirit, strong in will, and strong in action so that when tough times come—when bad things happen—you don’t have to lash out. You can exert no more force than needed to get out of a bad situation.

Be strong.