Not every reincarnation leads to a grand adventure. That was a good thing, because I was never an adventurous man in my previous life, and a second go at it hadn’t changed me much at all. No, I’d been fortunate to be born in peaceful times, then and now, and I’d made the most of it. A calm, city childhood, punctuated only by the brief spurts of mischief that landed me in the headmaster’s office on several occasions. I was never too studious, nor was I too problematic to keep on, and so I eventually graduated with average grades, and found a low paying but stable job in the public sector. I did my assigned work for eight hours a day (with a lunch break in between), five days a week, and I did it well, while taking care never to be kept in office for a single minute after five. Holidays were spent at home, entire days passing by in front of the television, or with my nose buried in an old fantasy novel; adventure came to me vicariously, and that was enough for me. 

Peaceful, pragmatic and private, that was my life, up until it all ended rather abruptly, just shy of thirty years old. Truth be told, I have little to no memory of what exactly happened at the end; probably for the best, since dying, as a rule, was not a pleasant experience. I can remember a sudden weakness that took my upper body, leaving it a struggle to lift my arms or even move my face. What words I attempted to speak came out unintelligible, and then there was darkness. Perhaps, the outcome might have been different, had I lived in a close household with a wife and children, but alas, I never made it that far in life before it ended. I lived alone, and so I died alone, and believe it or not, but it was assuredly for the best.

Raising myself up from the soft sofa I slept on, I took a small hop down to the floor, making my way to the automatic feeder that sat right by the television. Six hours had passed since my last meal, and like clockwork, the feeder came to life, dispensing my quarter-day allocation of wet food. Tuna, again, my favourite of the lot; I’d made sure that it was the most common choice, by virtue of swatting away inferior variants until my owner got the message. They still appeared, but only once a day, which was fine by me: three meals of tuna, broken up by either salmon, turkey or chicken, then back to tuna again. A little variety was fine, and that was just how I liked it. One quick meal, followed by a visit to the water fountain, and I was feeling quite fine. Back to the sofa it was, then.

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Working the remote took a bit of effort, with paws instead of hands, but I’d gotten the hang of it soon enough. Conveniently, I regained my memories as a cat on the same day as my human life ended, and in the same city occupying the same world, so there was no culture shock to deal with. I was already fully grown as well, and had enough memories as a cat to move my new body deftly. That was all I needed, really, as I switched to Sky Sports, just in time for the first Premier League game of the day. My owner had yet to return from work, so I had the room all to myself; not that it mattered much, because he was just as big a football fan, and would’ve watched the same channel regardless had he been home.

All in all, life as a cat was far better than a human’s. There was no work to take an eight hour chunk out of my day, no worries about income or maintaining tiresome social networks. Food was provided, and entertainment was too, and I never had to leave the house except for annual check-ups at the vet, which weren’t the most pleasant, but no worse than visiting the dentist as a man. Food, sleep, and the telly, what more could I ask for? A slightly longer lifespan, maybe, as I was already a decade old and unlikely to last for another, but what was there to fear? I’d already died once, and come out just fine on the other side. Truly, this was a good life.

Not every reincarnation leads to a grand adventure, and that was just fine by me.