Free Cats- Matched Set

One of my recent Facebook posts: Free to anyone who will take them (not really): 2 cats, matched set. I’m not sure which cat did what, so both of them have earned my ire. Last night while I peacefully slept, these feline terrorists ran amok. Somekitty upchucked her designer catfood (which they demand voraciously and incessantly) into one of my favorite pair of shoes. Somekitty clawed my last clean pair of jeans off the chair where I had hung it (supposedly out of their reach)and pulled them into a comfy bed, covering them in cat hair. Somekitty ate the leaves off my fuchsia plant, then disgorged said leaves over the floor and the antique table the plant sits on. As the crowning blow, somekitty pooped in the fireplace (okay, so the litter box was a day past cleaning, but I’ve been busy. Sheesh!) So, call now, 070-555-6444 for free delivery in a box with holes poked in it. (JOKE. Sorta).

Why do we put up with it? Non- cat lovers shake their heads in amazement, and even we feline aficionados have to wonder.

It may have something to do with their independence, their unwillingness to be anything other than what they are: Rulers of their Chosen Domain. It could be their enviable opportunity to sleep 18 hours a day, in the most convoluted positions imaginable, then get up, stretch, and saunter off with nary a crick in their bones. Possibly it’s the therapeutic value of rubbing a furry cat belly when nothing else in the world seems right. And then, there’s their unconditional love.

No, wait. I’m talking about cats, not dogs. Unlike a dog, a cat’s love and trust must be earned. It wants to be petted when and where it wants to be petted, fed when, what, and how much it feels is appropriate. The cat is not above the judicious use of a claw to express displeasure should these expectations not be met.
However, once you’ve earned a cat’s affection, you know you have something. It’s not a favor lightly bestowed, and thus more highly valued. There’s something comforting about having a cat curled by your side while you sleep or read, or the welcoming mew of a cat when you return home. The negative among us will say that “mew” means “feed me,” not “hello,” but I choose to interpret it as hello, especially since I receive it even when their food dish is full. It might be because my daughter adores their antics. Least but not last, my son, who has autism and is slow to express affection, will usually pets them frequently, and they always allow it.

So, I suppose I will forgive their nighttime shenanigans yet again. I’ll clean the fireplace, my shoes, my jeans, the table, buy a new plant, and move on.