"Willa Cather sat under the tree again, all morning," said sister Alan.
No need to ask what Willa is doing. A tall pine tree covers our backyard, and day after day, Willa crouches under the towering tree, perhaps hoping that one day a bird will fall from its nest in the tree.
Willa's body is like a bloated penguin, and she is the most difficult of the four cats in the family. Since she was a child, she did not like to hunt with her siblings. She prefers to eat canned food, twice a day. As she grows older this year, she is bulky and has less interest in hunting. Her hobby is to sit cross-legged under the tree, with her neck tilted up and staring at it. Willa knew there were bird nests in the tree, and she must have thought that as long as she waited, she would have good luck.
The next morning, the fat cat Willa, shaking her beard, took over her old turf again.
"It's no use," I yelled at her. "The island won't fall from a tree, be realistic."
Willa ignored my advice. She sat under the tree all spring.
Finally one day, Willa didn't show up in the old place. Okay, she finally got it. But I was wrong. Willa did realize that the current approach was ineffective, but over the summer, she revised her plan.
"Who dragged the rats in?" I asked one June evening.
"I'll handle it," Alan said. "It's either Thackeray or Dickens."
I didn't say anything, but I have reason to believe that it wasn't the two of them. Thackeray was napping all afternoon, and Dickens never hunted mice. Only Charlotte and Blunt were left, or... no, it couldn't be. The dead mice appeared one after another, and our confusion turned to surprise. The conclusion was that Willa, only Willa could have done it. Still, we found it unbelievable: "How did she catch it? She's too fat and too old."
I followed her the next day. "She didn't get very far," I reported to everyone. "There's a litter of mice under the lumber."
It was midsummer and I followed Willa to the backyard. I brought chairs and a big cup of coffee for the long wait. Watching Willa hunt mice is not enough without patience. I waited and watched.
Willa's plan was ingenious. She climbed up the lumber pile and crouched above the hole in the rat's den, waiting motionless until her hunting target slacked off. A mouse came out of the hole recklessly, and Willa swung its black claws and knocked it down. That summer, Willa packed up a whole litter of mice. One by one, all fell under her patient claws.
Now, Willa is lying comfortably on my lap. I rubbed her hair, realizing how lucky I was to know her. Smart cat, she taught me the advantages of getting older; know how to put yourself in the right place, and what you seek will come to your door automatically.
There is an advertising slogan: "Only choose the right one, not the expensive one." For life, at any time, you should find your own coordinates and location, and choose the most suitable thing for you. This is the case in career, love, marriage, and even lifestyle.
There is a mentality, always feel that what you don't have is precious, in fact, it is not. What you have is often more worthy of your own treasure. It is not easy to achieve the best, but it is difficult to find the most suitable one. Maybe what you have is not the best, but if it is the most suitable, it will definitely make people feel happy and satisfied.