“They” always say curiosity killed the cat. “They” say it a lot and so, being the scientifically-enhanced scholar that I am, I set out to prove or disprove “them” right or wrong. One night last week, I loaded up my camera and headed outside to search for the alley cat, Lucy-Fur. She’s an alley cat now by her own choice because as long as it isn’t raining, snowing, or below 35 degrees, she’d rather be outside. I also seem to have adopted an annoying stray feral cat, whom I’ve never touched, but who has lived underneath the deck for a few years now, has grown fond of me (aka my food), and follows me whenever I try to wander down the canal bank… I call him George Jefferson… because he’s loud.
I found Lucy-Fur lounging by the deck stairs. She wanted to listen to my iPOD and became irate when I refused to share… but… she did not die. Not looking good “they” people.
She then decided to sulk and began to climb the woodpile, the woodpile of the Parable of the Wheelbarrow, and even though I had stacked the logs unevenly… again… she didn’t die.
That lasted all of 5 seconds and soon she was off for more curious adventures… I noticed that she sat on everything she sniffed… which is everything… There was this tree stump:
And this patch of grass:
And she did not die… I’ve come to the conclusion that curiosity is a good thing and will most certainly not kill you unless you decide to be curious in front of a semi or down a manhole cover. I need to be more curious… view things with fresh eyes and a desire to learn about them. Life’s too short to be so regimented. Thank you, Lucy-Fur and George Jefferson for the lesson.
Question of the Day: Are you curious by nature?