This coming Sunday marks one year that I have been owned by a cat been a cat owner. MeowKitty has been a special part of my life and I really love her annoying, demanding, passive aggressive, demeaning little feline heart. After this … Continue reading
I think almost everyone has the same mental image when they hear ‘cat lady’. It looks something like hair rollers, frizz, wrinkled clothes, cat hair everywhere, cats everywhere…but there is always the crazed look in her eye. Take this for example…
This is the quintessential Cat Lady. She’s got her crazy hair, her crazy pj’s, her insane number of cats and the crazy eyes.
This poor woman – or the woman who is represented by the doll – gave up a long time ago. That isn’t eyeliner on her eyes folks – that is a mix of insomnia (WHO could sleep with that many face-pawing, fang raking little fur balls about?) and Toxoplasmosis.
You have to wonder how did she get there…? As a budding cat lady myself, I’ve given this some thought and I can see how this all gets started…
She gets ONE cat and she likes this. This animal is seemingly low maintenance, doesn’t seem to really notice whether she is there or not as long as she fills the bowls and scoops the poohs. But she thinks, maybe it’s lonely? Does it need a fur-companion?
So she gets another cat, because – goodness knows – being lonely can suck. A lot.
So now she has TWO cats. This next cat and the original cat seem to be ill-suited for one another (as in she comes home to find them sparring in a mix of broken vases, shreds of curtains and there is now litter EVERYWHERE).
She’s (currently) a rational person. A person of exquisite understanding and deep contemplation about the habits of people and animals alike. She digs through her memory of human interactions and places herself in the situation – her first college roommates come to mind almost immediately…AHA! They need a buffer! A THIRD cat friend to kill the animosity between the first two.
However by this time she doesn’t really want to go back to the shelter. She doesn’t want them to think that she is the crazy cat collecting lady…also if there was a home visit involved this time around they may have some questions.
So…she reaches to the ever-faithful marketplace of the internet – Craigslist. She scrolls through the six dozen ads of people offering kittens – no, she’s after an adult. This bad roommate situation requires maturity. She finds her match almost seventeen pages into the ‘pets’ section – a calm and docile looking ‘sweet-girl-kitty’. The owners are moving, or allergic or whatever – she doesn’t read much after ‘free with littler box’. SOLD. God knows she will need that now that she will have THREE cats.
She brings sweet-girl-kitty home and somehow the animosity does die. They all mind their own business and it was the perfect move. All is right with the world..until she finds sweet-girl-kitty behind the clothes dryer, desperately laboring to deliver a litter of six kittens. Crap. Six plus three…she now has NINE cats.
Logic would say – ‘foster these sweet babes for a while and then find them gentle, sweet homes. Lots of people love kittens…apparently including you’. She argues with herself for a bit, but once they’re up and moving around and mewing all over and doing adorable acrobatics in her closet – she just couldn’t part with any of them. AND the soft pink BEAN FEET are so evil and irresistible! They end up with names like Frank, Cary, Jimmy, Audrey, Mae, and Myrna…because, the Mr. Mittens route would be wayyyyy too far gone for her still…as of now.
So I think that’s how people end up with nine – ninety cats. (The people with ninety cats are what happens to you when you forget to spay and neuter your pets, folks. Take note!)
I’m pretty pleased with just this one…as of now. 🙂
She’s WAY too into herself.
She starts bitching at me the moment I get in the door.
Remarkably enough this is about a CAT – not a bad girlfriend.
She makes messes on purpose and gloats over them.
She has NO understanding of personal space.
Everything is hers, nothing is just mine.
She’s the first thing I see in the morning (usually accosted by a paw to the face – ‘wake up slave, I need water and there are pooh clumps in my throne box‘) and the last thing I see when I go to bed (looks something like – ‘get off my sleeping square you call a ‘pellooo’ or I will continually rub my razor sharp fangs across your forehead).
I guess it’s not all bad.
She does this really cute thing with her feet when I get the rare green light to scratch her belly.
She runs to greet me at the door. I didn’t know a cat would do such a thing.
She’s low maintenance – and when I need her to GTFO, she usually complies, after about the 10th shove.
She completes my 34 year-old single woman thing. I mean, I’ve checked off all the other prerequisites…the cat was inevitable.
I may not be ready for a troupe of Mr. Whiskers, Patches and Mittens, but MeowKitty (yes, that’s her name) and I are doing just fine together.
This is the cat behind The Reluctant Cat Lady. She’s a pretty little rescue kitty and – if I’m honest – I couldn’t imagine not having my MK around these days.
Now you’ve been adequately introduced. Below is a perfect mash up of our relationship, me and MeowKitty.