Cats and Me

I would rather spend time with a creature that chose to like me, instead of with one driven to like me because of DNA that has been modified by my own species over thousands of years.

I mean, how much of an ego do we have?!

Perhaps being a cat person is genetic. I seem to get it from both sides of my family, especially my dad. I don't mind dogs, he seems generally less than enthused by them.

Cats are less likely to be interested in licking my face. They're less likely to stick their nose in my crotch at inappropriate times (which is, really, all times). And they're less likely to cause massive damage with a bite.

I will say that I got cat scratch fever as a child. It's a real thing. I was pretty outgoing towards cats in my youth, and some of them weren't having it.

Cats are picky and stuck up and often have no sense of humor. And I love them. They're precious and precocious and I am that person who can spend hours looking at lol cats.

I have personally owned three cats over my lifetime. The first was named 'Tack Cat, short for Attack Cat, because he liked to attack things. He was hit by a car when I was around ... five or so.

The next was named WaitABit, after the tree in the film The Gods Must Be Crazy, because she clung onto everyone. I didn't name her, my parents did - I was seven. She was a sweet cat, siamese and very loving. She was hit by a motorcycle. I remember opening the front door to a man in motorcycle clothes ...

Somewhere along the way there were a couple of hamsters, and then a lab rat named Scratchy. Then my friend who lived across the street had a cat who had kittens, and we wound up with one, whom I named Collar for the tiny white circle of fur around his neck. I was ten and in fifth grade.

Collar moved with us twice. He was the smartest cat I'd ever met. He tried to figure out how to open doorknobs. He could also get really angry. If I really pissed him off, he would sometimes jump up to my outstretched arm, then hang on it and bite me. It was impressive.

He died when I was 17. Hit by a car in the rain. I miss him still, and dream about him from time to time. He'll just show up, and he'll have been alive this whole time. Sigh. Wow, way to depress myself with a blog post.

Since then I've had a couple more rats, and of course the fish debacle, the tales of which can be found in this blog. I would love a pet, but I have no idea what my apartment's policy is, and my boyfriend is allergic to cats. It's cool, though, they're making a vaccine for that, and so eventually I will have another sweet cat to love.