Tuesday, March 02, 2010

On Becoming Catwoman

My entire life, I have always been a dog person. I have never been fond of cats and they have certainly never liked me. Yes, I am a lesbian. However, contrary to popular belief, cats are not a prerequisite.

Before Lucas was born, Ruanita and I had a dog. Charlie was a Shih Tzu...a happy little ball of hair and hyperactivity. Lucas loved Charlie unabashedly and I loved seeing the two of them play together. However, when the twins came along, Charlie did not adjust well to our new household members. Their surround-sound cries made Charlie extremely anxious. He responded by chewing up Lucas' toys. He chewed nothing else in the house....only Lucas' toys. He would chew the heads off of all of Lucas' beloved action figures and leave their decapitated corpses strewn around Lucas' bedroom. Needless to say, this was traumatic for a 3-year-old Lukie. Eventually, try as we might to remedy the situation, Charlie had to go. I had a coworker who had no children and two other dogs....his dogs were his children and were adored. He happily took Charlie off our hands. I tell myself that Charlie is in a happier place now.

Now that the twins are not babies anymore, Ruanita and I decided at the beginning of the year that we needed to get the kids a pet. Unfortunately, we just do not have the time right now to care for a dog. As a matter of fact, Ruanita said that she is afraid that she would commit unthinkable crimes if she had one more creature asking her for a single thing. Since we didn't want a poor dog...or the kids...to come to a grisly end, we opted to get a cat instead. On January 2nd, Sophie, Nicky, and I (Lucas has strep, so we left him puking on the couch at home) went to the Animal Humane Society and adopted Molly.

I have to admit, for a self-professed dog person, I was surprised at how quickly I became attached to Molly. She had me wrapped around her razor-sharp claw within days. She has the sweetest little face and the softest black and white fur. I love to cuddle with her. Unfortunately, I think she is well aware of this fact. Molly is fickle with her affection. Sometimes she surprises me by sitting in my lap and purring happily while I watch TV. Other times, I beg for her affection and come up empty-handed. She will pretend to approach me, a haughty look on her whiskered face...then walk right past me. She's a tease. A temptress. And I hate myself for being her mistress. I find myself standing at the top of the stairs in my pajamas calling out her name. "Mooooollllyyyy....come here baby." I am alone in bed and I want her to come upstairs and cuddle with me. Sometime she will. Sometimes she won't. Cuddles are always given on Molly's terms. On Molly's schedule. However, I can't stop myself from wanting more. There are times when I think she is smarter than me. I can see her planning...scheming. She knows just how much affection to dole out to keep me coming back for more.

Damn you fickle feline!


Shari said...

Should I call you the crazy cat lady? Be careful or before you know it you'll have like 5 cats! :)

Wibbs said...

We have four cats, and only one of the four gives me any attention. The others only pretend to be interested in me when I come home and they haven't been fed. Then they prance around next to the cupboard hoping I'll feed them. This never works.

I've tried to cuddle up to them, get them to sleep on me, sit with me. No love. They hate me. That's why those three cats are Brooks' cats and I have "my" cat. Cats are definitely fickle.

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