The Dalai Lama's Cat

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Starving and pitiful, a mud-smeared kitten is rescued from the slums of New Delhi and transported to a life she could have never imagined. In a beautiful sanctuary overlooking the snow-capped Himalayas, she begins her new life as the Dalai Lama’s cat. Warmhearted, irreverent, and wise, this cat of many names opens a window to the inner sanctum of life in Dharamsala. A tiny spy observing the constant flow of private meetings between His Holiness and everyone from Hollywood celebrities to philanthropists to self-help authors, the Dalai Lama’s cat provides us with insights on how to find happiness and meaning in a busy, materialistic world. Her story will put a smile on the face of anyone who has been blessed by the kneading paws and bountiful purring of a cat.

Being a cat addict I had to read this. And of course learning some more about Buddhism was only a huge plus. Did you know that Buddha loved and respected cats? You won't learn this from this book, but surprise, surprise - His Holiness Dalai Lama loves cats too! Compassion filled not only His Holiness’s face but the whole room. It was as though his concern could not be contained; it seemed to flow outward, touching every living being in Namgyal and far beyond. So this was surprisingly adorable and I didn't mind His Holiness's Cat at all! HHC is still arrogant and is far too preoccupied with food to give out any major doses of affection, but she was an entertaining voice. I've never read a book written by a cat before.He turned out the bedside light, and as we both lay there in the darkness, I purred gently in appreciation. An eerie silence followed. Around the dining table there were raised eyebrows and expressions of concern. Several of the Vatican delegates crossed themselves while glancing upward. Tenzin returned to his seat, and conversation slowly resumed. In the months that followed I watched His Holiness working on a new book: the many hours he spent making sure texts were correctly interpreted; the great time and care he took to ensure that every word he wrote conveyed the greatest possible meaning and benefit. Because the Dalai Lama was still at the temple, I went to the office of the executive assistants, dropping the mouse and announcing my arrival with an urgent meow. Responding to the unfamiliar tone, Chogyal and Tenzin both turned and looked at me in surprise as I stood there proudly, with the mouse on the carpet at my feet.

What I got: a cat that is inexplicably knowledgeable about american/english gossip and explains Buddhism to, apparently, five-year-old readers through a series of mildly interesting parables concerning extremely flat characters.The Dalai Lama looked directly at me. “We liked meeting him, didn’t we?” I remembered that at the time, I had thought how deeply unenlightened the professor seemed. But after what I’d done yesterday, I was hardly one to judge. Cine dintre noi nu se desfată cu o masă delicioasă? Cine nu își dorește să doarmă într-un pat sigur și confortabil? Fie că suntem scriitori, călugări - sau pisoi fără adăpost -, toți suntem egali din aceste puncte de vedere." As my eyes and ears adjusted to my surroundings, I became aware of a scratching noise— sporadic but insistent gnawing. I paused, nostrils flared, as I searched the air. For along with the sound of incisors chomping came a pungent whiff that set my whiskers tingling. My reaction, instantaneous and powerful, triggered a reflex I hadn’t even known I possessed. The idea came about one sunny Himalayan morning. There I was, lying in my usual spot on the first-floor windowsill, the perfect vantage from which to maintain maximum surveillance with minimum effort, as His Holiness was bringing a private audience to a close. The book also emphasizes that personal happiness comes from a want and a desire to make others happy. I forget what the actual Buddhist term for this is, but it's definitely something i need to practice in my own life.

This got me thinking about how to weave key themes and messages into a fictional format. When I heard that the Dalai Lama once had a cat, being a pet lover myself, I immediately though of what an amazing life the cat must have. If only it could talk. I was surprised at how entertaining the story was and how much I fell in love with the narrator: HHC. The cat was everything that you’d imagine a feline narrator to be; if you have a cat for a pet then I cannot say how much you will simply adore this. Most of all,” the Dalai Lama said, leaning over and stroking me with his index finger, “all of us just want to be loved.”I also enjoyed observations of daily life in Dharamsala where the self-styled Tibetan government in exile works in a town full of hippies, scholars, and tourists. A stray?” he exclaimed, after His Holiness briefly explained the reason why I was occupying the seat between them. Watching the courtyard below fill with the usual mix of red-robed monks, umbrella-wielding tourist guides, and couriers in their high-visibility vests, for a short while I forgot about that lunchtime’s inexplicable omission—until Dawa arrived with my usual ramekin, which he placed on the sill with an elaborate bow. If you ever doubted that your feline companion has her own inner life, just watch what happens when she falls asleep and loses conscious control of her physical being. Inevitably you will notice a twitching of limbs, a quivering of the jaw, sometimes perhaps a snuffling noise or a meow. What are these, if not the involuntary accompaniment to the imagined drama playing out in her mind? Cats may indeed be capable of great mindfulness. But we are thinking beings, too.