Listen up, dudes. I believe I’ve stumbled on the ultimate martial art.
No, really. This time I swear I’m not just passing along one of those ads you find in the back of old comic books that tell you how to become the hero of the beach and kick sand into the faces of people who once slighted you and then steal their girl.
I’m completely serious.
See, it started when I was watching how the four-legged members of our Casa de Dude operate around each other. We’ve had three of the little critters in the house at the time. Since then, the oldest — Big Fat Cat — has passed on to the big food bowl in the sky. Or a pit in the back yard. Either way.
Moving on.
In addition to Big Fat Cat, we have the orange Twitchy Cat and Buzz, the Garbage Disposal That Walks Like A Dog. In addition to eating anything too slow to move out of his way, Buzz also is the type to bark at squirrels, birds, moles, chickens, other dogs, people at the door, people walking by in the street, people four streets over that might possibly be thinking about maybe knocking on someone else’s door. Bark and charge, that’s Buzz’s motto.
Buzz doesn’t want to hurt any of these small, furry and twitchy animals. Really. He doesn’t. All he wants to do is hug them. With his teeth. It’s completely different.
You’d think with Buzz’s bark and charge ethos, he’d have produced a (more) psychotic (than normal) cat from the constant chasing. But that’s not totally true.
Big Fat Cat, back when he was alive, got along quite well with Buzz. BFC would be sitting on the floor of a room and Buzz would explode inside. BFC didn’t move. Buzz would run up to BFC, then pull up. Puzzled.
BFC didn’t move. Buzz would look confused. Normally, by this time, he’d be haring off after the spastic furry animal he’d charged. Nope. BFC didn’t move at all.
Eventually, Buzz would get bored and wander off looking for excitement.
Twitchy Cat was a completely different story. Both cats are huge strings of exposed nerves. They are cats, after all. BFC just didn’t show it.
Twitchy Cat shows it when he’s asleep. When he’s awake. When he’s sitting still(ish). When he’s eating and drinking. There’s a reason he’s called Twitchy Cat.
TC’s approach to Buzz was completely different than was BFC’s. Mostly in the fact that TC’s approach was to run away as fast as felinely possible, wailing like to end the world.
Which would, of course, set off Buzz’s Imminent Teeth Hugging Time alarm and he’d be chasing after TC as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.
Two cats, basically the same. One dog. Two different reactions.
So what was the difference?
I’ll tell you, dudes. The difference was Big Fat Cat projected an attitude of “I don’t care. You can’t make me care. Why are you still here?”
Twitchy Cat immediately freaked right the freak out, which triggered the chase. I’d call it the chase reflex, but the word reflex connotes that it is off sometimes.
And here was my big revelation: Show fear and you’re doomed.
Just as we talked about yesterday in that negativity is a choice, and your attitude can change the way you approach life, here’s another example of attitude over aptitude.
If the world sees you freaking out, it’s just gonna go at you all the harder. Mostly just for kicks. If you’re a rock, solid, just going about your business while the world falls apart, the bad crazy stuff will get bored and wander off to find a butt to sniff.
Metaphorically speaking.
Take a breath. Stare down the bad crazy and then go your own way. A martial art for life, not fighting.
