Clutching At Life With Sheer Tenacity

Bart the cat. CREDIT: REUTERS/HUMANE SOCIETY OF TAMPA BAY/HANDOUT VIA REUTERS

Yesterday, I read a remarkable news story about clinging to life and having faith in every teeny breath. A cat named 'Bart' was run over and ended up lying down seemingly lifeless and motionless. The owner buried the cat, just like anyone else would do, but the cat showed up five days later, casting utter dismay, unprecedented surprise and awe upon the heart of his owner.

The cat incredibly dug himself back up, using nothing but his claws and ferocious heartbeats. His condition was critical; as he injured his left eye badly and broke his jaw in his journey back to the surface of Earth; the place where many adopt perspectives conflict with that of Bart's.

I was emotionally moved by the story to the point that a tear surreptitiously ran down my freshly shaved beard. I also, more importantly, felt quite ashamed; as I had repeatedly lost hope in myself in the past, unlike this courageous, tiny creature. His epic struggle should be written down in history books and taught at schools.

I have no idea what type of life Bart had had before he was buried; whether it was good or bad, but I'm quite certain that his mind was destitute of any past thoughts, and that it only focused on one sole thing -- getting the fuck out of that grave and resurfacing. He didn't deliberately break his jaw and irreversibly damage his eye because he missed any aspects of his past life as a pet; he rather believed in a tomorrow that is replete with fresh possibilities. He simply felt it wasn't his time to go yet, and just fought for his prerogative to live.

Bart the cat has instilled insight in me and inspired me to just clutch at life with sheer tenacity at all costs. Shame on my fellow humans who have never been able to teach me that lesson before.