Buddhist Cats

So, I’m quite convinced that one or both of the felines that infest my living space are practicing buddhists or perhaps they’re just lazy stoics.

The evidence that points in this direction:

1. They haven’t killed me yet despite all of my crazy antics:
   1. Feline aerobatics.
   2. Feline caps (a la coonskin caps).
   3. Neglected litter pans.
   4. A four day trip in the car followed by a week stay in a hotel.
   5. Bringing home random cats that want to have the run of the place to themselves while they puke and shit everywhere.
   6. Leaving one of them out on the roof for New Year’s Eve. (It was his fault, I spent 45 damn minutes trying to find the cat and get him to come in!).
   7. Attempting to determine why they lick themselves by joining in.
   8. Figuring out how much static electricity you can make by rubbing two cats together. (Not Much.)
   9. Forgetting to feed them before I went on a weekend vacation.
   10. Monthly claw clippings.
   11. I haven’t figured out which one is George and which one is Shaun yet.

2. I watched one of them for a full 5 minutes move litter around the pan, without urinating or defecating. Can we say sand art?