The Big Game
Jean was talking to her cat, Skittles. This was not something she did everyday but under COVID isolation exceptions could be made.
She took a sip of tea. “You know Skittles, it is an unusual game. It goes for a very long time, there are many players and the rules are complex. What’s more, the weirdest thing is that even when the winners have been announced the game just keeps going anyway. It never really seems to finish and you have to stop playing, to somehow come off the field otherwise before you know it you are in the thick of the competition again.”
Skittles, like all cats but not dogs, enjoyed a philosophical discussion.
But as all cats are also border line sociopaths and strong utilitarians Skittles had only so much to give in return. Nevertheless she stopped licking her paw to listen closely.
Jean went on.
“The hardest part of it all is the scoring. It is very confusing. There are a number of different variables that seem to be taken into account. It is not just the richest or the one with the most toys. At various times and in various amounts suddenly you seem to be judged on other things, things like empathy, social awareness, and self-actualisation. Apparently “you want to be the best you can be” and you don’t want to “miss the boat” or “fail to launch. “
“And somehow from all of this they keep score,” Jean finished with a rush, feeling quite emotional. She drew breath and realised that she was angry. Angry with herself and other people too, almost everyone in fact.
“And there is one more thing!”
Skittles, who could feel the morning sun making her drowsy again, thought another minute of this would be torture. She wondered whether the human characteristics of opposable thumbs, self-awareness and the ability to reason were worth all the angst.
“Just when you think you are on track and playing the game well, something comes along that is so unexpected and game changing that the…well.. the game changes. It is all so random. Suddenly winners are losers; everything is turned around and upside down and there is nothing in the rules about it. Nothing at all! ”
Jean sighed, reached out and stroked Skittles neck. “You’re so lucky Skittles, none of this sort of stuff to worry about. Every day the same, long sleeps in the sun, always something to eat.”
Skittles lacked the ability to point out that only last week her normal routine had been upended when Jean had unexpectedly interrupted a fine session of hunt the lizard, so she just leaned into the pleasant petting. She began to purr, something which humans seemed to find soothing, one day they might realise the purring was actually done for them. Skittles could feel the tension drain away from Jean. The next thing to do, for both their sanities, would be to help her find a new job.
