Readers ask: What is the secret to happiness?

[photo: Me, contented]

Recently, a human visitor to my home said - her voice full of admiration - That is the most contented cat I've ever seen. I wish I could relax like that. And so on. It was plain that she wanted to know my secret to happiness. I will try to answer, even though I suppose I'm going to sound like one of those Buddha cats. It can't be helped. I am what I am.

First of all, what do I have to be unhappy about? I have a pretty cushy life. Warm, dry, safe, well-fed, hardly ever screamed at. I have my own private litterbox and a sizable territory in which I am the only cat. I am the center of this world, universally admired for my talent and beauty. These things don't hurt.

But it's a fact that a lot of cats who have all that are still not happy. If they're out, they want in. If they're in, they want out. If they're not allowed out, like me, they won't accept it, but keep trying to rush the door and getting squished in the process. They have plenty to eat, yet they make their owners miserable winding around their ankles in the kitchen meowing pathetically, not willing to wait a minute for their bit of the fish. Every meow seems to say, Want.Want. There's the problem. Those cats are victims of their craving.

I'm not saying a cat shouldn't crave a treat now and then, or be curious about what's on the other side of the door. The thing is not to be obsessed with what you want. That's called ambition - a human trait that can rub off on their animals, and it isn't pretty.

If you cultivate detachment and aren't grabby, all sorts of rare and interesting things naturally come your way. I always like to point out that it's in the posture. Nine times out of ten, if you just sit watching your humans eat, paws together neatly, and stare up at them with large, beautiful eyes, as if you could speak, they will cave.

If they don't, you'll live. You don't have to win every time. Kittens don't believe that, but it's true.