If kittens subscribed to breaking news alerts, they would know when there is a freeze warning in the solarium.
They would know the latest business forecasts for savory shreds and savory centers.
They would know the precise moment they reach twelve months of age and cease to be the center of the world.
At least, that is what the breaking news alert would say.
There, between “Cheez-Its release 50,000th flavor” and “Michael Bolton decides to grow his hair long again,” Adder and Boa would find the words: “Adder and Boa reach adulthood.”
Fortunately, kittens do not get breaking news alerts. Even when I show them my phone, they do not “get” breaking news alerts. This is the secret to remaining kittens.
It is not that Boa and Adder don’t see and hear things.
Even with 100% fewer eyes than the average cat, Boa has perfect vision. Boa knows that he is as silky as a scarf you wear to the opera, and the color of the greatest ganache on the tallest gateau. Boa knows that his feet are funny truffles and his tail tells truths. Boa has read The Little Prince fifteen times, especially the part about how “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” Boa likes laps, because they are softer than a gazillion gateaux, and sweeter, and also a supreme location for listening to storybooks.
Adder has eyes, but Adder’s favorite sense is not sight. Adder likes watching Boa double-dog-dare gravity to a showdown, because gravity always loses. Adder likes listening to storybooks, too, and also volunteers’ free performances of songs like “Adder Adder Adder gets radder and radder and radder.”
Yet hearing is not Adder’s favorite sense, either. Adder will never turn away anything attached to the adjective “savory,” yet not even taste tops his sensory countdown.
Adder’s favorite sense is awe, which is why Adder has no time for breaking news, and Adder will never cease to be a kitten.
Far be it from us to tell Boa and Adder that they are “adults.” I would not say such a thing to Jonathan, or you, or myself, so why would I say it to a kitten who just happens to have turned twelve months old?
It is not exactly breaking news that every body is getting older. It is just not that interesting, so long as you remain a kitten.
My phone may buzz to tell me that Olay has released a potion that will enable me to pass for 42 when I am 43. If I do precisely eleven jumping jacks a day, I can lower my cholesterol by precisely “one smidgen.” But while I am attending to all this information, the kittens are collecting wisdom.
Specifically, they are leaping like electrified popcorn and turning Suite B into a hysterical honky-tonk.
They are rewinding clocks and flipping hourglasses by vaulting into laps and goosing cats who were pretending to be dignified.
They are turning every animal in their orbit younger, and they are not about to cease being the center of the world anytime soon.
It is anyone’s guess why Boa and Adder are still with here, on the north side of their first birthdays. One working theory is that they are “a little too boogery” for most adopters.
Those graceful and elegant words, straight out of Madame Butterfly or La Traviata, are accurate enough on paper. Yes, the bouncing brownie brothers are prone to runny noses. But their sinuses have to run fast, or else they won’t be able to keep up with the kittens’ celebrating. A little snot is not about to clog their kazoos.
The right human kitten will know the tune.
In the meantime, I am trying to learn from my wise and wriggly tutors, silencing my ringer so they can purr in stereo into my aging ears. But sensing a moment is harder for a human than for a gallant little gateau who cannot technically “see.”
I break eye contact to peek at the portable prison with unlimited data. The phone tells me that someone important said something sharp and nasty about someone else important. I was younger before I knew this.
Meanwhile, Adder and Boa do not even know that they have “not been adopted.” To know this, they would need to have read the news. And to know that, they would have to look away from their lives.
Kittens never look away from their lives.
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.
Breaking news: Just yesterday, Adder and Boa charmed their forever person. That’s right. The boys are getting adopted … together.
Thrilled these munchkins have been adopted!