The Dalai Lama's Cat (The Dalai Lama's Cat 1)

“As a short-term measure. But on an ongoing basis the doctor says iron should come from her regular diet. He suggests lean meat, ideally beef. But she won’t accept it.”

“On principle?”

“She said, ‘I don’t want to be responsible for animals being killed! Why can’t I just take an iron supplement?’ Susan and I are very concerned.”

“Difficult to persuade a teenager.”

“Children of that age don’t listen to their parents.” Tenzin was shaking his head. “I am wondering about a different solution.”

I discovered what that solution was two days later. It was the third and final day of the archive move. I was dozing in the visitors’ room, the two novice monks chanting mantras softly beside me, when Tenzin arrived with Lauren in tow, carrying her school bag. She had finished her classes for the day, and because her mother had to go out, she had come to Jokhang to do her homework. This arrangement happened a handful of times each year. Usually, she’d sit in the office with Tenzin and Chogyal, but because of the general upheaval, Tenzin put her at the desk in the corner of the visitors’ lounge.

That, at least, was the cover story.

Pulling out her books, Lauren started working on an English assignment. She was engrossed in the comprehension exercise, her face filled with delight, when half an hour later, the door to His Holiness’s suite opened, and he stepped outside.

“Lauren! Good to see you!” He brought his palms to his heart and bowed to her.

She had already risen from her chair and was also bowing, before giving him a self-conscious hug. His Holiness had known her since she was born, and there was genuine warmth between them.

“How are you, my dear?”

Most of us give a polite, pro forma answer to that question. But perhaps because the Dalai Lama was asking it, or perhaps because of the way he made her feel at that particular moment, instead of the routine response she said, “I have an iron deficiency, Your Holiness.”

“Oh! I am very sorry.” Taking her hand, he sat on one of the sofas and gestured for her to sit beside him. “A doctor says this?”

She nodded.

“It can be treated?”

“That’s what’s the matter.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He says I must eat meat.”

“Ah, yes. You are vegetarian.” He stroked her hand comfortingly. “Being vegetarian all the time is the ideal.”

“I know,” she agreed, unhappily.

“If, through compassion, one can abstain completely from eating the flesh of living beings, this is best. Therefore, everyone who can do this should consider it. But if, for medical reasons, you can only be vegetarian most of the time, then maybe you have to do this.”

“Most of the time?”

He nodded. “Doctors also said I have to eat meat sometimes, for nutritional reasons.”

“I didn’t know that.” She studied him very closely.

“Yes. I decided, even if I can’t be vegetarian all the time, I will follow a vegetarian diet as much as possible but be moderate about it. Being vegetarian or non-vegetarian need not be black or white. We can find a middle ground. Sometimes eating meat for nutritional purposes, but all the time not necessary. My heartfelt wish is that everyone would consider doing the same thing.”

It seemed that Lauren hadn’t even considered this possibility.

“But what happens if you don’t want any animals to be killed just so you can eat?” she asked.

“Lauren, you have a good heart! But such a thing is not possible.”

“It’s possible for vegetarians.”

“No.” His Holiness shook his head. “Not even for them.”

Her brow furrowed.

“Sentient beings are killed even for a vegetarian diet. When land is cleared to make space for crops, the natural habitat is destroyed, and many smaller beings are killed. Then crops are planted, and pesticides are sprayed, killing many thousands of insects. You see, it is very difficult to avoid harming other beings, especially in relation to food.”