One cat has a nervous vomit reflex. Another has the world's stinkiest poop (she's the only one who refuses to cover in the litter box, of course), and another simply cannot believe that the corner of my kitchen counter wasn't created as his bed. (You know how cats are - buy them an elaborate cat bed and they'll turn their nose up at it and promptly go lay on your freshly-washed sweater or open newspaper.) Anyway, we put up with the hair, and the surprise attacks to our ankles, and the midnight scurrying because we receive back all the love and attention we could ever ask for (or at least, the absolute minimum amount of love and attention they think they can get away with giving to us and still get food and littler cleaning services on a regular basis).
Cats complete our households. They snuggle and purr. They comfort us when we're sad. They give us something to tell stories about (not that we would ever, EVER let them know that we abuse their dignity in this way. Seriously - please don't tell my cats I wrote this post. I would be finding kitty fluids of all types in strange places for months to come, and I would never walk out of the house in a hair-free outfit ever again). Despite how hectic things have been, cats have been the one constant in my whole life. (Hmm.... maybe it should be more like, "because cats have been the one constant in my whole life...") Even as I write, there is a cat curled up beside me, and another trying to get onto the keybaslkfjasldfjlasdofuwerouoard. (Shane says hello.)
I'm often asked by the dog crowd why it is that I love cats. Their affinity for Fido is as much a mystery to me as my appreciation of Princess is to them. Sure, dogs don't ignore you, but cats don't demand your attention either. A cat may leave you alone for three whole days, but you can return the favor and all you'll end up with is a little extra hair on the counter and a rug that's been slid across the room. Leave a dog alone in your home for three days and you'll have to invest in a steam cleaner, drywall repair, new carpeting, and two years of doggy psychiatry. Cats don't run to greet you, tongue wagging, when you return home from the office (or from stepping outside to get the mail). But, let's not fool ourselves here. A dog is saying, "please take me outside so I can pee on your tire and poop somewhere you're likely to step in the next few days" as much as he's saying, "Gee, I love you and I'm glad you're home."
To me, that's the crux of it all - what makes cats so very cool. They may need you, but they'll never admit it. They are positive that what they give in the relationship far exceeds what they receive, which makes them feel they've earned that extra eighteen inches of your pillow and the chip on their shoulder. Their self esteem is solid, and by golly you're lucky to know them. Let's face it - cats are the big-wigs of the animal world. Got a cat with crossed eyes who shorts every jump and lands back on the floor with a quizzical stare? What about it? Einstein didn't talk until he was three and was fired from menial jobs for years. Stinky gas? Bad litter box aim? Chronic hairball hacker? You're still lucky to know 'em!
Cats have never forgotten that they were once revered and worshipped as Gods at the height of ancient Egypt's reign as the world's main superpower. Next time your cat is staring off in space, oblivious to your presence, rest assured that he's recalling a time in his breed's distant past when you would have been bowing at his feet. A time when families shaved their eyebrows in mourning for a sick cat. A time when he was surrounded by an adoring public, the choicest of foods, and a litter box that ran all the way to the Nile Delta. It's no wonder that Mr. Squeakymouse and the Krunchy Kitty Kibble that we offer them today doesn't exactly inspire them to mew lovingly and gaze into our eyes with adoration. Perhaps they're right - even with all their shennanigans and shedding we are lucky to have them around. One thing's for sure - at least sharing your home with a cat is better than owning a dog!
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