A Call to Paws

I’ve been doing some reflecting lately — between meditative naps on the windowsill and my ongoing feud with the neighbour’s compost bin lid. And I’ve come to a difficult but important decision – it’s time to bring back the Mindfulness Meetings.

Why now? Because things have been rough in the feline realm.

First, we lost Ron — he of the tall tails about catnip-induced romps behind Four Square with unattached females. Then Squeak, whose musical mews and sage advice could calm even the grumpiest senior tabby. Their passing left a rift in the spiritual fluff of Diamond Harbour — and I know I’m not the only one who’s been feeling it. On top of that, cats have been going missing, rodents are running riot, and dogs have been barking mysteriously at absolutely nothing. And let’s not even mention the global weirdness — the world appears to be run by some kind of unstable orange person, which is deeply unsettling, not just for humans, but for felines attuned to current affairs.

There’s stress. There’s static. There’s too much barking at every passing car. And I say … no more!

Mindfulness Meetings Are Back

Same spot as last time — underneath the deck at my house, Wednesday nights at around 5:30pm, just after the humans pour their first tipple of the evening. We’ll begin, as tradition dictates, with our “settling in” ritual — find your spot, groom your bits, and let the purrs begin. Then we form the Circle of Trust, tails curled just so, ears gently tilted toward wisdom.

Our Sacred Customs:

The Speaking Paw – raise it if you wish to share. Not to be confused with the Stretching Paw (which is welcome, but won’t get you the floor).

Tale-Telling Time – open to anyone who’s been through something: got stuck in a pantry, fell off a deck, dreamt of scratching out Ollie Gale’s left eye — that sort of thing.

Comfort Choruses – our signature group purring ritual, led this week by yours truly, with optional harmonies from Cookie and Smokey O’Neill (if they’ve resolved their dispute about what brand of cat food is best for problematic hairball blockages).

Legal Issues – a question-and-answer session led by Mr Darcy, who lives in Purau and has developed strong views on territorial boundaries, sunroom annexations, and the questionable legality of dogs in lifestyle blocks. While not technically qualified, he speaks with the quiet authority of someone who once shredded a lease agreement and got away with it.

Emergency meetings can still be called with an Urgent Meow — three crisp meows at dawn or dusk.

No yowling, please. We’re aiming for decorum — we may be territorial, but we still uphold higher standards than many MPs at Question Time in the debating chamber.

Special Offerings This Week:

There’s a rumour that Serafina may return to lead a guided meditation on “Letting Go of Fear While Maintaining Superiority.”

I’ll also be unveiling my latest furball sculpture, “Existential Crumble”, made entirely of my own strategically shed orange hair. (Limited edition. Not suitable for climbing.)

And if the wind shifts just right, The Gingernuts may perform — provided Spooke has come down from the neighbour’s roof and none of the band members have overindulged in catnip.

Who Can Come?

All cats. Even if you’re a bit odd. Especially if you’re a bit odd.

If you’re new to mindfulness, don’t worry — just come, sit, groom, listen. You don’t need to say a word. You don’t even need to stay awake the whole time.

No dogs. (We tried once — it was chaos.)

Humans may observe from a respectful distance, provided they bring snacks. Or at least a blanket that smells faintly of tuna.

Look, the world is noisy. It’s unpredictable. Sometimes I sit by my cat door, waiting for it all to make sense. And sometimes… it doesn’t. But in that stillness — that sun-drenched silence where tails twitch and hearts slow — that’s where we find peace. Come. Sit. Be seen. Be still.

Let’s remember who we are … the cats of Diamond Harbour.