You know how some people get really attached to their pets to the point you worry about them? Yeah.


But I can still laugh at myself! And I haven't yet bought a baby-bjorn to carry him around in! (Though Christmas is right around the corner if you're looking for gift ideas for me.) No, but seriously, you guys. Shame be damned, caution to the wind: I am in love with my cat. Not in the way people fall in love, because our physical affection stops at cuddling and grooming, but rather in the 'special' way that animals and people fall in love. You know, where you're attached enough that other people doubt your ability to maintain a healthy social life, but not to the point where it's illegal (in most states)?

Like, for example, there are certain songs that make me think of him. Say, "The Air That I Breathe" by The Hollies. Or "How Can I Tell You" by Cat Stevens. Or, sometimes, I'll spend over an hour taking pictures of him or the two of us together.

Yes, he is only potty-trained in a very loose sense of the word(s). Yes, he knocks over cups of water onto books. Yes, he leaves bite and claw marks all over my hands, drops bits of food all around his dish, covers my clothing in hair, scratches my favorite furniture, and isn't nice to other animals he's met since moving in with me.

BUT YOU GUYS. He loves to eat cat-nip, and go on wild drug-fueled trips as a result. When we change the sheets on the bed, he loves to be under them on his back, attacking any movement above with all four paws. He loves to show his belly, all the time, any time. One time we were driving and I was crying, and he meowed so I let him out of his carrier, and rather than hide in the back seats he silently sat stretched on my lap as I pet (petted?) him for the whole half-hour ride home.

As I awkwardly and boringly confessed to my co-workers the other day, I'm shocked by how much I love him. Like, I knew I'd probably like him a lot. But now I totally get how people become crazy obsessed with their animals.

A scene from Peter's Friends (1992) hits a little close to home. Emma Thompson's character, Maggie, is about to leave her cat, Michael, with a sitter before she leaves for her vacation.

[To the sitter]: "I've never left him alone before. I've left pictures of myself everywhere."

[To the cat]: "Look, Michael. MAGGIE."

[Back to sitter]: "That's supposed to help. Please don't let him follow me into the hall 'cause he might try after me." [realizes cat is gone] "Where is he?"

Sitter: "He ran into the bedroom."

Maggie: "He's putting on a brave face. You have my telephone number, just in case you need to get in touch. Please don't hesitate to call... Bye, Michael. Bye. Bye-bye, Michael. Bye, I'm going, bye. Don't let him follow me, alright? Bye."


Kristen said...

I also love your cat. And I especially love how you use the collective in this post, e.g., "When we change the sheets . . ." Conjures up awesome mental images of you two doing chores together.

OurSoundHome said...

I love that you love him so much!