The Feline's Guide to Grieving (Or Not)
When Dumbledore died, I’ll admit, there was a lot of commotion. Humans crying, running around, and talking in hushed tones like they were about to spill their tea everywhere. Honestly, I don’t get it. The man was ancient—what did they expect? Wizards don’t live forever, no matter how shiny their hats are. But still, there they were, all tragic and somber. As if they hadn’t been expecting it for years.
Me? I had more important things to focus on—like the fact that my sunspot was now being overcrowded with emotional humans. As if I hadn’t already dealt with enough chaos in the last few days. And there they were, asking, "How are you feeling, Crookshanks?" Like I’d know what it meant to “feel” something. All I wanted was my nap.
"Honestly," I thought, curling up on the windowsill and flicking my tail with disdain, "I could care less about the old wizard's funeral. I mean, he was practically a walking history book. He was probably ready for a nap himself."
I glanced around the room. Harry, poor guy, looked like someone had just stepped on his tail. Ginny was biting her lip, and Hermione—oh Hermione—was over there with her eyes as wide as saucers, looking like the world was ending. I had half a mind to swat her broomstick and tell her to take a deep breath, but I resisted.
Instead, I took a leisurely stretch, pawing at my whiskers before proceeding to knock over a few of Dumbledore’s “important” books. Just a little nudge with my paw, and boom—those thick leather-bound volumes were spilling all over the floor. That’ll teach them to bring their sorrow into my space.
A couple of them gave me annoyed looks, but I wasn’t bothered. They always look at me like I’m some sort of emotional wreck just because I’m not joining their pity party. Meanwhile, I had the best seat in the house. The sun was shining, the humans were distracted, and all I needed to do was figure out how to sneak some food from the kitchen when no one was looking.
Dumbledore’s dead, huh? Well, alrighty then. I yawned dramatically, rolled over onto my back, and proceeded to ignore the chaos. Who needs grief when you can have a good nap in a cozy spot?
And so, the humans mourned, and I simply waited for the noise to die down. I figured I'd get some sleep and pretend to care in the morning. Because really, no one can mourn forever, right? Besides, there’s always a fresh bowl of tuna to look forward to.