Ten Lessons on Living and Dying That I Learned From a Cat
We recently said goodbye to our beloved cat, Twinkie. He was just a few weeks shy of his twentieth birthday, twelve of which I had the privilege to know. Twinkie had been showing his age for quite some time, but his decline was so gradual, and his presence so strong all the while, that we thought he might live well into his twenties. In fact, Twinkie abided so well in whatever state of health he was in that it took us until his final week to realize just how close to death he actually was. He approached it like a buddha—poised, composed, and unperturbed. The Buddha is said to have died both in great pain and with great composure. We know this because of the cause of death (food poisoning), the teachings he imparted in his final hours, and the meditative state he enjoyed while passing away. His dying was the culmination of all he’d learned and taught since first glimpsing the sufferings of the world while on secret chariot rides beyond the shelter of his father’s palace walls. Namely,