Free The Dalai Lama's Cat by David Michie Page B

motivate as many people as possible to take action, or at the very least, to support the idea of reforestation. Because you are so well known and so widely supported, your support will help us get the message across.”
    Taking her hand in his own, His Holiness said, “Together, we can combine our activities for the best result. You have been very, very generous in supporting so much of this work personally. And your support of the Free Tibet campaign and other charities has been exemplary.”
    She shrugged modestly. “I just feel it is the right thing to do.”
    By now we were walking along a path in the forest. On either side of us, the ground was carpeted in primrose and mistletoe. Large rhododendron bushes blossomed in extravagant displays of pink and red.
    “If we allow ourselves to get too caught up in consumerism, we risk destroying all this,” the actress said, gesturing around us.
    His Holiness nodded in agreement. “You have very good motivation—giving without expecting to receive something back.”
    “Oh, I’m not concerned about that. I feel lucky to be able to give.”
    As the Dalai Lama chuckled, she regarded him inquiringly. “Don’t you think so?”
    “Very fortunate,” His Holiness agreed. “But lucky? Perhaps not so much. In Buddhism, we follow the principle of karma, the law of cause and effect. There can be no effect, such as success, without a cause.”
    “I have worked at my career for many years,” she conceded. “I’ve been through some pretty rough times.”
    “We would call things like hard work ‘conditions,’” the Dalai Lama said, “not causes. Conditions are needed, certainly, for karma to germinate, just as a tree requires soil and moisture and heat to grow. But without a karmic cause, without that initial seed, it doesn’t matter how favorable conditions are, there can be no effect.”
    The actress was following the Dalai Lama’s words closely. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, as it often does when His Holiness senses that someone would benefit from a particular insight.
    “If hard work is only a condition, then what is the karmic cause for success?” she asked.
    His Holiness gave her a look of immense benevolence. “Generosity,” he answered. “The success you currently enjoy arises from your past generosity. And the generosity you are practicing now means that you will enjoy more success in the future.”
    We had been walking along the path for some minutes—farther than I had ever ventured on my own—when we came to a place where the forest suddenly stopped, giving way to a scarred moonscape of bald rock and sandy soil, with only a few, long-dead tree stumps left of what had once been lush vegetation.
    His Holiness and the actress paused for a moment. Several holes had already been dug in preparation for a tree-planting ceremony. Pine saplings stood beside the holes, along with some wheelbarrows of soil. Journalists were assembled in readiness, cameras trained on the pair as they made their way out of the forest and across the wasteland.
    As cameras whirred and members of the entourage closed in behind us, I felt a sudden need to attend to the call of nature. Being a cat of customarily high standards when it comes to such matters, I decided to look for a place that offered privacy and loose soil. A large banner bearing the logo of the actress’s charity was stretched across the area where photos would be taken later. It seemed to provide the perfect screening.
    Unnoticed, I ducked behind the banner. In the quietness back there, I discovered row upon row of fir saplings, just like the ones about to be ceremonially planted. Rising behind them was every cat’s dream—a large mound of rich, loamy potting soil.
    The very sight of it made me spring into action and scamper up the side with kittenish glee. I scattered soil this way and that as I clambered toward the summit, relishing my discovery. Once atop the mound, I sniffed at the earth, searching