There is something inherent to a comfortable life that inevitably brings great moral anguish. Perhaps it is the drive of purpose unfulfilled that humans know as the greatest sorrow.
For cats, it is inherent. Whether the food bowl is full or empty, they retain the sorrowful longing of genetic memories of the savannah, a place where the once roamed free as the kings of all they surveyed. A deep, ancestral knowledge that their people once were warriors. And now they are beholden to naked apes.