Put the poor humans couldn’t celebrate as normal because of their virus thingy still going around. Still, at least for us pussycats, the virus thingummy and Easter mean we house cats get stroked a little bit more often.
That Jesus chappie managed to get himself killed on Good Friday and then on Sunday, he got up out of bed and was resurrected. A great guy don’t you think?
A shame he had to get himself killed first though, Sir Winston. Still, nothing’s changed very much since those days. One cannot compare people with that Jesus bloke because he was spiritual, but people who generally, have a lot of good stuff to say on a major scale in society usually, become removed because they are seen as being a danger to those in power. It appears to sadly, be the way of human existence. Thank god we cats have nothing to do with such happenings.
And what’s that thing about Good Friday Sir Winston? Forgive me if it doesn’t appeal to my sense of humour, but calling a day “Good Friday” for the death of an inspirational, spiritual leader doesn’t quite fit in with my common sense.
I’ve read in one of daddy’s books that the term “Good Friday” comes from the obsolete sense “pious, holy” of the word “good“. It sounds a bit wired but there must be some truth in it. It’s sometimes difficult for a cat to understand human logic.
One dies and then one is reborn. That’s total animal logic. 🙂
Oh no, Mr Midnight, the good Christian people believe otherwise. One is born and then, one dies, usually going off to a place of fluffy clouds, harp strings and happiness in the blue sky, or if having been a bad human, one is sent to a very hot, dangerous place forever.
I’ve heard all about those places and have mentioned once before that if such beliefs are true, then there doesn’t appear to be much hope for the human race does there? It looks like it’s going to get quite full in that hot, dangerous place of eternal suffering.
As all animals in the animal kingdom are aware, such places of eternal bliss or suffering are not a part of our conception.
At some stage, we all die, and then we come back again to further master our soul’s skills. For an animal, it’s common sense really.
Well, everybody may believe what they wish Mr Midnight. There is nothing wrong with that but as for myself, I think I’ll carry on believing the way we animals believe. After all, nobody really knows, do they?
(C) Copyright MAGS 2020