In my head, the song Let It Be by The Beatles is subtitled Paul’s Mom, or All the Moms. It is – or should be – the role of moms to speak words of wisdom to their offspring, in their own language or by example.
This applies to all species, including the mama squirrel I named Einstein because she broke out of a have-a-heart trap, broke through a hole patch, and opened a “back door” into our attic. She also made very pointed eye contact with me once. We had a moment. It was a thing, and there was a witness. Wisdom shone through those eyes. Animal wisdom, for sure, but something very definite, very real.
(For the record, Einstein and her younglings, Eddington and Bohr, are now living their best lives in Warren County in NJ, safely away from our wiring and our cats.)
Mature squirrels as well as humans of a certain age might be able to impart the wisdom of the ages and of their ancestors to their offspring. But what we have to offer is nothing compared to the wisdom of cats. This is especially true of the elders of the feline species.
What, you may wonder, are some of these words of wisdom that some of these particular cats might impart? Pardon begged if anything becomes lost in translation, but the following will hopefully clarify based on some personal interactions. (Questions remaining after reading may be submitted in writing and directed to the individual cats at Tabby’s Place. Responses are unlikely due to a lack of opposable thumbs and resultantly poor penmanship and terrible typing skills.)
The Actual In Fact Real True Chief Executive Director (we’re talking about Jonathan’s boss here) of the Sanctum Sanctorum known as Tabby’s Place is one Honey Rosenberg. She’s tiny. She’s sweet. She’s sassy. She’s sharp as tacks and as soft as a cloud. She’s wise. The first bit of wisdom that Honey would like to impart is that if you need to be a fellow feline sharing the Executive Suite, it would behoove you to be Marcia. Failure to be a Super Glorious Black Cat and Subordinate Actual In Fact Real True Chief Vice Executive Director is insupportable.
The second 
bit of wisdom Honey would care to share is, “Stay out, Hips!” Hips is unwise and routinely fails to follow this strong suggestion. Similarly unwise is Prescott, who is able to squeeze through tall bars in a single squoosh, thusly vexing her elders greatly. Such disrespect is intolerable! Honey insists that elders should be respected, Marcias should be adored (at least accepted), and everyone else best make room because she is coming through. Through what and to where are unclear, but the wisdom of cats can be wonky at times.
No such wonkiness is to be found with Boom, the King of Awesome and Lord of All of the Sauce. Wise in the ways of warmth, Boom advises all, far and near, to find a cozy bed and burrow under blankets until one appears to disappear, barely making a bump in the bedding. If you should be human and seeking to visit a cat so disposed, bring a brush. If it’s excessively cold outside, just don’t bother at all. If it’s warm out, check that bump in the blanketed bed in the solarium. If you’re Steven, take the brunt of all of the adoration of the hoi polloi, and only allow the crème de la crème of all the visitors (that’s absolutely everybody) deeper into the suite. If you’re in with Boom, you are in like Flynn. Boom doesn’t know who Flynn is or what it is like to be in like that, but he does recommend Flynn as a cat name. Also, Boom likes Steven…and brushes (in case that wasn’t clear)…and also Elijah…and also fish mush. Boom strongly advises that he and his suitemates be fed only the finest fish mush…frequently.
Okay, so maybe the wisdom of cats is a bit peculiar. Even so, we humans would be wise to observe them closely and try to emulate some of their wisest behaviors. Cats understand and often demonstrate the wisdom of taking naps and resting quietly. The importance of play is woven into their very beings. Wonderfully wise in the ways of boundaries, cats show us how to ward off unwanted overtures – typically gently – and how to gracefully accept offers of friendship. Whatever grace they have or lack is nothing compared to what their actions whisper to us: rest, play, eat, and share, but know your own boundaries, own your own space, and, most of all, make the most of each moment. Just don’t forget the fish mush.