Do you remember the candid cat that saw me off when I went to Australia? She delivered kittens in my mom's linen closet a few weeks after I left. One of her daughters stuck around and she had her own litter. Then one of her daughters had three kittens last year and now, she is found gallivanting around with a rather handsome dude cat with mysterious green eyes. She also carried forward the legacy and left us one of her daughters to take care of.
I don't want to like cats. Cat-women friendships freak me out. I have seen way too many women going home to cats. Old ladies sitting on fur laden couches with one of their cats arrogantly perched on their shoulders, little bowls of preservative infused tuna fish and that one corner of the house, where the dreaded litter box sits, with its enormous potential of turning your stomach inside out. I reject all these things associated with cats. And I have had some unfortunate experiences of my own. But it is also true that wherever I have traveled, I have always made new feline friends. Whether it was my friend Kyle's obese cat Doc, or his parents' dainty little eighteen year old Ally cat.
Or Elodie's gracefully French cat Mirabelle (below). Growing up, Elodie lost five cats before Mirabelle, and all of them were called Mirabelle. So for a long time Elodie thought that all cats are called Mirabelle. :)
As Elodie would approach this, maybe this is related to my childhood. Well, it is. Who can forget those endless hours that my cousin and I invested in throwing cats off our first floor balcony? Or putting two kittens under one upside down cardboard box and watch them go berserk? Or trying to wash them and reacting in absolute bewilderment when they escaped and ran for their lives. We never loved cats. We just tortured them. But it was their fault too. Try torturing a dog. It just doesn't work. Even when they love you, you sometimes pity them. Cats invite dislike. They walk into a room with an air of Oh-I-am-better-than-all-of-you and now, you are going to get up and feed me. When you try to tease them, they would attack you. It is like fighting with an equal, and I personally derive great satisfaction from an even fight. A confrontation of two minds that are equally manipulative, intelligent and ruthless.
So back to the current cat in my life. She has this obsessive need for cuddling. It is as if to her eyes, I am a couch. So I started making her life difficult, just to encourage dislike for me in her mind. I would put her on top of an open door and leave her there. I would pick her up from her annoying cat nap and suddenly throw her out of the house. I also put some diluted Eucalyptus oil on the floor of my room to discourage her from coming in. I only feed her because she fights with me for it with really threatening meows. I put her out and close all the windows to the house. But she squeezes in through the exhaust opening and cat walks all over me declaring her triumph. Her end goal is my lap. And it is hard to concentrate on throwing her out when you are busy writing pointless posts on cats. But nonetheless, most of the times, she wins, only because of laziness on my part. One morning I talked my dad into giving her away. But I don't know how, she mysteriously disappeared for two hours when he was supposed to drive her.
Sometimes she looks into my eyes and blinks slowly, as she sits on my lap. And sometimes she licks the inside of my elbows. I didn't quite get this gesture. I thought it was related to her territorial rights over me, which made me a bit angry. I am not her property! But then I looked it up and found out that maybe, it is her way of, yes, expressing love! I think it is now my turn to run for life. :)
I don't want to like cats. Cat-women friendships freak me out. I have seen way too many women going home to cats. Old ladies sitting on fur laden couches with one of their cats arrogantly perched on their shoulders, little bowls of preservative infused tuna fish and that one corner of the house, where the dreaded litter box sits, with its enormous potential of turning your stomach inside out. I reject all these things associated with cats. And I have had some unfortunate experiences of my own. But it is also true that wherever I have traveled, I have always made new feline friends. Whether it was my friend Kyle's obese cat Doc, or his parents' dainty little eighteen year old Ally cat.
Or Elodie's gracefully French cat Mirabelle (below). Growing up, Elodie lost five cats before Mirabelle, and all of them were called Mirabelle. So for a long time Elodie thought that all cats are called Mirabelle. :)
As Elodie would approach this, maybe this is related to my childhood. Well, it is. Who can forget those endless hours that my cousin and I invested in throwing cats off our first floor balcony? Or putting two kittens under one upside down cardboard box and watch them go berserk? Or trying to wash them and reacting in absolute bewilderment when they escaped and ran for their lives. We never loved cats. We just tortured them. But it was their fault too. Try torturing a dog. It just doesn't work. Even when they love you, you sometimes pity them. Cats invite dislike. They walk into a room with an air of Oh-I-am-better-than-all-of-you and now, you are going to get up and feed me. When you try to tease them, they would attack you. It is like fighting with an equal, and I personally derive great satisfaction from an even fight. A confrontation of two minds that are equally manipulative, intelligent and ruthless.
So back to the current cat in my life. She has this obsessive need for cuddling. It is as if to her eyes, I am a couch. So I started making her life difficult, just to encourage dislike for me in her mind. I would put her on top of an open door and leave her there. I would pick her up from her annoying cat nap and suddenly throw her out of the house. I also put some diluted Eucalyptus oil on the floor of my room to discourage her from coming in. I only feed her because she fights with me for it with really threatening meows. I put her out and close all the windows to the house. But she squeezes in through the exhaust opening and cat walks all over me declaring her triumph. Her end goal is my lap. And it is hard to concentrate on throwing her out when you are busy writing pointless posts on cats. But nonetheless, most of the times, she wins, only because of laziness on my part. One morning I talked my dad into giving her away. But I don't know how, she mysteriously disappeared for two hours when he was supposed to drive her.
Sometimes she looks into my eyes and blinks slowly, as she sits on my lap. And sometimes she licks the inside of my elbows. I didn't quite get this gesture. I thought it was related to her territorial rights over me, which made me a bit angry. I am not her property! But then I looked it up and found out that maybe, it is her way of, yes, expressing love! I think it is now my turn to run for life. :)
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