Free The Dalai Lama's Cat by David Michie

me. Why did he insist on calling me by that dreadful name?
    “Oh, I think she is still making up her mind about him.” Chogyal glanced at me as he delivered his typically generous assessment.
    “Making up her mind?” Walking over to the cabinet, the driver reached out to stroke me. “In that case, she is a very wise cat. Most of us judge others only on appearances.”
    “And as we all know”—Chogyal clicked his attaché case shut—“appearances can be very deceptive.”

     
    The next morning when I visited the assistants’ office and saw Kyi Kyi in his basket, instead of ignoring him completely, I walked over and sniffed at him tentatively. Kyi Kyi reciprocated in kind, before cocking his head and taking a good, long look at me. Through this moment of communication we reached an understanding of sorts.
    I did not, however, climb into his basket and let him lick my face.
    I’m not that kind of cat. And this is not that kind of book. But I didn’t envy Kyi Kyi anymore. Chogyal could walk him and feed him and whisper sweet nothings to him as much as he liked, and it wouldn’t bother me a bit. I knew that behind this appearance was another reality. As I was discovering, even the most powerful first impressions could mask a very different truth.
    I also discovered that I felt a lot happier not being jealous. Envy and resentment were demanding emotions that had disturbed my own peace of mind. For my sake, too, there was little point in being consumed by unhappy and irrational feelings.

     
    It was less than six months later that a letter arrived for His Holiness on the impressive embossed stationery of the new Institute for Other Development established by Jack. After his visit to Jokhang, he had handed over management of his Self-Development company to a colleague and created a partner institute focusing on Other Development. The idea was to encourage as many people as possible to give their time, money, and social networking skills to worthy causes. Jack’s first instinct had been to nominate those worthy causes. But in the spirit of Other Development, he had decided to let others choose the organizations they wanted to support.
    Within just a few months, over 10,000 people had signed up as supporters, and over $3 million had been raised for a wide variety of charities operating around the world. The huge surge of support, said Jack, was thrilling, humbling, and life-affirming. He’d never felt happier or more fulfilled in his life.
    Would His Holiness consider attending the inaugural conference of the institute later in the year, perhaps with an address on the true causes of happiness?
    As Tenzin read Jack’s letter to Chogyal, there was unusual emotion in his voice. “Even though I’ve worked here for more than twenty years,” he said, “I still get surprised. When people allow the well-being of others to become their motivation, the results are simply …”
    “Immeasurable?” offered Chogyal.
    “Yes. Precisely.”

C HAPTER F IVE
     
    Is it easy living as the anonymous companion to a global celebrity? Some people believe that the unknown companions of very famous individuals must feel constantly overlooked and undervalued, like the drab hens to glorious roosters. When the rooster gets all the attention with his lustrous plumage and magnificent dawn arpeggios, wouldn’t it be understandable if the hen sometimes yearned for her own time in the spotlight, too?
    In the case of this particular hen, no.
    Within my own small world of Jokhang, I am already as well known as it’s possible to be. At Café Franc I am venerated as a rinpoche! And while His Holiness may appear frequently on TV, he also has to go through life being photographed and having microphones thrust in his face morning, noon, and night. He must answer the relentless questions of journalists asking him to explain elementary Buddhism—much like a professor of applied physics being asked incessantly to recite the multiplication tables.