Any self-respecting feline will tell you: cats do not err.
They do surprise you. They do make last-minute course corrections. But they do not make mistakes. N-O-N, no.
Our species is a different story. We err in sloppy spectacular ways, so we’d best accept it and decide which ditch we prefer to careen into.
I propose we err on the side of smiling too much, being an exclamation point instead of a colon, and making glorious fools of ourselves rather than grimacing with dignity. While we’re at it, let’s be too gentle with each other and risk giving away the store in the name of love.
The cats intuitively grasp this idea. Even the decorous among them — Angus and Max, Lester and Boots — know how to pull “ridiculous” out of the air and make it dance. The right to be ridiculous, to paraphrase my homeboy Bono, is something they hold dear. And the right to love beyond reason is their birthright.
As we fumble along, we know even our best human efforts are tinted with error. We think too much and too little of ourselves. We think too much about ourselves. Our pride and our fear are bigger than either deserves, our love so eely we can’t hold it still. But this is the week — known as Holy Week, and for good, whole-some reason — when we remember that all our errors are swept up in grace. Love covers a multitude of sins — even yours, even mine (and they are legion).
But enough about us. In the spirit of confessing error, the cats would like to share how they would err…if, of course, cats were capable of erring.
Happy Easter, beautiful ones.