Fawn is writing an entry about Crook, our cat, and I figured I would, too.
To be perfectly honest, I didn't want a cat. I've never been a cat person. Cats have never made any sense to me. There are certain cat behaviors that I detest; like when Crook starts yowling to be fed at abhorringly early hours in the morning or when he jumps up onto the table or kitchen counters and knocks things off. Or when he rips up the door mats with his claws. Or when he paws at the door incessantly, meowling to be let outside even though he's not allowed outside. Or when he escapes outside and makes us chase after him. Or when we can't catch him and he brings dead (and half-dead) animals into the house.
We've tried to correct these behaviors, but nothing seems to work. The dog gets it. He's easy to train. If Crook gets it though, he sure doesn't let on.
I've heard people say that cats are trainable and I'm willing to concede that that may be true, but true in the same way that Sasquatches are real. Sure, people say they're out there, and I'd like to believe they are, but I've never seen one and I've seen very little evidence to support the case.
And don't get me started on litter boxes.
No, I just don't get cats. Dogs I get. It's easy to understand what's going on in a dog's brain. OK, maybe not the little yappy ones, but little yappy dogs are dogs in the same way that Pizza Pockets are actual pizza: They evolved from something totally awesome into a cute little over-processed package that bears some resemblance to the real thing but isn't.
All of this to say that I never really wanted the cat. I wanted a dog and we got a dog. Fawn wanted a cat so we got a cat.
As I've already mentioned, there are times when the cat infuriates me. Like today, when I was driving him home from the vet. I should feel pity for the guy, I know; he'd just had two vaccinations. But when he started foaming at the mouth, did he need to drag his cat slobber from one end of the car to the other? And when he started blowing chunks of half-digested cat food out of his maw, did he need to do that from one end of the car to the other? I suppose I could have put him in a cat carrier for the trip, but the last time we did that the emissions were even more putrid.
Then there are times when I'm happy to have him around. OK, I confess, he is cute. He is affectionate and friendly with everyone, including total strangers. He's very good with the kids and handles their loving abuse with exceptional grace. He's quick to purr and I like that. He is, undoubtedly, an attention slut. It can be a little difficult to type on a laptop while a cat is sitting on your chest, but he's warm and snuggly and who can resist warm and snuggly? He keeps me company when I'm up late, working. It's times like that when I really, really like him and am glad to have him around.
Darned cat. I don't know whether to hate him or love him.