The eye of the house tiger.
This cat does not want to be bothered. It's either staring at something in the tree outside, or experiencing an existential crisis; contemplating the illusion of freedom of a life lived from one room to the next, hunting toy mice, and chasing the red dot he knows deep down he will never catch. Fearing that one's life is, as Shakespeare wrote, "but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more." But it's probably just a bird.
(by Jonathan Corbett)