In a time period long since past, there was no Earth. Only the Creator. Practically a god in comparison to what we are today, the young Creator constructed the world out of sheer vanity through the essence of Chaos, and planted the seeds of life that were free to grow and adapt into whatever shape and form of organism they desired. It was in these days that humanity and furry kind were created, and contrary to what either race's history will tell you, they in fact lived a peaceful and harmonious, if still primitive, existence in the earliest years of planet Earth. The Creator, however, was doomed never to experience this environment and community for himself, for to reveal his existence to his creations would cause them to place the entirety of their reliance on him. His pride quickly turned to sorrow and back to lonelines as time moved on, as while the deity was capable of creating objects and creatures in his image, never was he able to create anything he was readily capable of coexisting with, capable of relating to. Even though he loved the Earth itself as the sum of his efforts, he became increasingly detached from its inhabitants and began to dismiss them as an afterthought in the centuries that followed.
Millennia later, disaster struck. The power that initially held Earth together was weakening, the lush landscape began to shrivel up and die, and the very fabric of the planet was tearing apart at the seams as it became impossible for the planet to sustain itself. This would puzzle anyone, let alone a god. His people were without sin and lived a life of luxury and paradise at no expense to the planet or each other, yet the planet seemed to be rotting and dying through no fault of their own and taking them with it. Eventually the answer came to the Creator after reflecting back on the past that created this planet - Earth was built on the foundations of Chaos rather than order, and inherently and unavoidably fed off its very essence to stay alive. Suddenly the reality hit that he had created a peace-loving folk to live on a planet that fed off war and suffering, and it had ended up dooming his prided planet to ruin.
All was not lost, but to fix it now would result in massive amounts of genocide and suffering - and the Creator, remaining indifferent to their plight, spared them no second thought. Using subtle hints and signs, he inspired humanity to commit to a racial war against furkind, and as the numbers of both dwindled over the course of the ensuing hatred and combat, the wellbeing of the Earth they took residence on gradually improved. This was the first Cycle - a process of existing civilization driving itself to ruin, unknowingly to fuel chaotic essence to the planet to keep it alive. And the Creator, driven mad by loneliness and obsession for his planet, ceased to think of his living inhabitants as anything other than fuel to be burnt routinely in order to keep Earth alive, and only allowing them to live and breed long enough to fuel the planet for another few millennia before systematically driving them to murder and rebuild once again.