Bismarck Discovers His Inner Kitten

Mornings shrouded in unrelenting darkness; days involving the occasional trepidatious venture outside into the bone chilling cold; long evenings spent languishing inside propped up near a vent and wishing that it were a roaring hearth: these are the circumstances that defined or rather delimited Bismarck's world. A long, bitter, caustic winter confronted Bismarck like a vengeful pit bull, compelling him to fall inwardly upon himself. It was as if he had been engulfed in a ominous mist and then the outer rim of that mist had solidified, freezing him within its heartless soul-consuming vapors. Rejuvenating vernal rains seemed thousands of miles away; estival celebrations on the other side of the sun.
Had he been endowed with a more significant prefrontal cortex, Bismarck might have learned how to despair. Glacial memories might have congealed. Contrary to theories of global warming they could have pullulated and spread. He would have become cold as ice and unwilling to sacrifice his love.
Fortunately, he was a cat. Trauma stuck to him like eggs to Teflon. In other words, most of it was thrown in the dustbin. Trauma became to him ancient history. And dissimilar to monkeys, cats have no interest in ancient history. Except for the Egyptians. Bismarck could well understand the rituals of the Egyptians. As far as he knew they were the only humans to think sensibly at all. In fact, if more people acting like the Egyptians there would probably be no more winters. Or if not that then humans would serve as slave to cats and winters would consequentially become much more bearable. In the meantime, like all cats, he had to think on his feet, find a means not to ruminate. Something to do that would eliminate thinking entirely. So he observed yougins' and discovered play.
Suddenly, out of the mist appeared a swaying string and with it beautiful music (at least for those who like Bismarck thought Darius Rucker was great). With it, Bismarck fell into a groove. The human prances, swinging a set of headphones and Bismarck lunges after them, together engaging in a beautiful and cosmic dance, a thing which in and of itself obviates the dread of winter and brings with it a dream of glorious spring.