Thursday, June 25, 2009

I'll just say it: I don't like cats.

They're cute, cuddly, furry little creatures unique among all others.  As kittens, they lure you in with their pathetic little meows and their tiny furry limbs and sweet little faces.  Then they become cats. Cats who rub against your legs, marking you with their scent, which is actually a tiny spray of urine. Cats, who scratch your furniture, who lurk around your house at night, sometimes crawling into your bed.  Cats, who lick themselves in order to bathe, whose litter boxes smell grotesque enough to make a grown man gag, and who, if you stopped feeding them, probably would never come back, no matter how much you loved little "Fluffy" or "Snowball".

Wow. That got a little personal. 

Lets just say that I'm not an animal person. I've never had a pet that wasn't a goldfish and don't particularly understand the "love" that "animal people" experience.  I don't begrudge my animal-loving friends their petting, cuddling, animal loving time.  I used to think I resented cats because I'm allergic to them, but upon examining this little unending chagrin with the feline species, I realize that its roots extend deeper.  

I've had terrible personal experiences with cats.  Once, I was taking a walk and noticed the creepy six clawed cat that used to hang out where I lived following me.  I turned around, bent slightly and said "Hi kitty," and it jumped up and clawed my neck.  I even bled a little.   This is the same cat that used to lurk on the roof of the porch and scare people half to death by jumping down right beside them.  Cat lovers would say this cat was just a playful trickster. To this day, I think it was one of the forms of the devil incarnate.

At the moment, there is a cat with kittens camped out on my porch.  Now, the people we're house sitting for live on a farm and they don't necessarily need to feed the cat, because there are plenty of mice around for it to eat. The abundance of farm cats seen daily lurking around trees and machinery are evidence of this.  However, they've taken a liking to this particular black and white cat with a short tail, and we feel it's our duty to keep it coming back.  And of course, since it had kittens a few weeks ago, they need to eat too.  The problem? This cat, having borne it's offspring, is now in heat, attracting a few male counterparts often late in the evenings who meow at her loudly.  This is the original catcall.  Now, I lie awake at midnight... 1 a.m.... 2 am... and pray that this feline just stops playing hard-to-get and takes one of her would-be lovers up on their offer.

I firmly believe that if cats were people, they'd be the snobs of society, perhaps the aristocracy who attend private schools and consume only the best restaurant food.  Cats do not care about their owners.  They do not comfort you when you are sick, or care that you had a terrible day.  It is human beings who project their own personalities and feelings onto what is purely instinctual for cats.  That "sympathetic meow" was really "ok, so when are you going to feed/pet me?"

Now, if you have a cat, simply enjoy cats, miss your dead cat or perhaps you are that cat-lady with 29 cats, I'm not sorry that I've expressed my feelings about cats and will not apologize for my opinions.  My guess is that if you are any of the above, you knew you wouldn't like this post when you read the title.  Continuing to read was your choice. Good day.


  1. nice tags!
    I'm lured by kitties because of lolcats/ which is ridiculous, but it's like a big ol ad for cats.

  2. Your blogger name suits this post perfectly. Thank you for keeping me amused when I should be working.


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