The Cat Who Missed the Old Rug

Jasper had slept on the same frayed, blue rug for ten years. It was his anchor. When it was gone, he felt lost, staring at the empty wooden floor as if his happiness had been taken out with the trash. He was mourning the familiar object, rather than the joy it provided. But as the afternoon sun poured through the glass, Jasper felt a familiar, deep warmth on his fur. He realized then: the rug was just the place where the light happened to land. The light was still there. Our joy often outlives the things we think create it.