My wife turned me into a cat guy. I had zero experience with cats, until I started going out with her. In fact, I had zero experience sharing a living space with animals of any kind before we got together.
We had dogs when I was growing up. One of my many regrets in life is that we made those dogs live outside. This was not unusual in our rural part of the world. Our place of residence was a trailer and, as I recall, my father did not think animals belonged inside. There was barely enough room for us humans, let alone a dog or two.
There was a doghouse out back lined with straw, which seems like little protection against the elements. We should never have had dogs if they had to be chained up outside. Even though it was not my decision for the dogs to live out there, I still feel a little shame, all these many years later. It was a different time back then; things were done that I would never do now.
The first cats I ever interacted with were my future wife’s cats, Frankie and Cleo. I had fun with Cleo, especially. He was a big galoot of a cat, 20+ pounds, but not fat, just big. He reminded me of a mini black panther. Cleo was very easygoing. I used to pick him up and run in a loop through the dining room, kitchen, hall, and living room. I am not sure why I thought this would be fun for him. He didn’t seem to mind, though. Another thing I would do with Cleo was what I called the “whirlybird”. I would be seated, and I would put both hands underneath Cleo and lift him as high as I could above my head. Then I would rotate my arms around one way and back the other, mimicking a helicopter. Again, he didn’t seem to mind. I learned later that not all cats appreciate being messed with like that. Cleo was definitely one of a kind.
In the years that my wife and I have been together, we have had many cats. I do not believe I know all there is to know about cats, but I have learned a lot. All our cats have had their own unique personalities. (Is personalities the correct word here? Or should it be felinalities? They are not “persons”, after all.) However, there are traits common to most cats. They do not want to do anything that is not their idea. They can be at times standoffish, or affectionate, depending on their mood of the moment. Some cats will pester you for food or a treat, and then walk away when it is presented to them. If a favorite toy is tossed down the hall, they will often tear after it. Expecting them to fetch it and bring it back will lead to nothing but disappointment. They are not into doing dog things.
When cats show affection toward their humans, I wonder if they are expressing actual love for us or is it more transactional, meaning, have cats learned certain behaviors that will cause people to give attention to them? Or give them food? Or engage in play? We would all like to believe our cats love us, as we love them. But, who really knows what goes on in a cat’s head?
We had a cat named Baby, who I believe truly loved us. My wife rescued him on a visit to a cousin’s Missouri farm. Baby was the runt in a litter of kittens, and most likely would not have survived. She brought him home and he thrived. He was so tiny; he fit in the palm of my hand. He just needed a chance at life.
Baby could be sweet and affectionate, but he could also be a little spitfire in his younger days. He would pick fights with the other cats, and he would mark his territory by peeing in various locations around the house. I would get so angry at his antics that I would chase him under the bed. After a little while, he would come out as though nothing had happened.
Baby and I grew closer in the latter part of his life. He would sit on my lap with me as I watched TV. Sometimes, I would have to get up for a moment and when I’d come back, I would find Baby where I had been sitting, enjoying the warmth I left behind. I’d usually find a new place to sit so as not to disturb him. Often though, he would come over to where I was so we could be together again.
In his last few years, I would bend down to Baby, as he lifted his head up and we would greet each other by rubbing noses. I think it was a mutual expression of love between him and me. He lived to the ripe old age of 20, and we believe he hung on at the end because he loved being with us. Nobody can tell me any different.
Today, we have two cats – Chester and Pearl. Chester is almost 6 and Pearl is almost 5. Chester, a classic orangeboy, is quietly mischievous. He seems to love doing stuff just to get a reaction out of us, like messing with the shutters, or jumping up on the kitchen counter. I think he knows when he’s doing wrong, but he does it anyway for the fun of it. Chester almost never makes a sound, with two exceptions. He cries a lot when he has to be in the cat carrier, as when he goes to the vet. And, sometimes at night after we have gone to bed, we’ll hear Chester gently trilling or chirping or warbling to himself as he wanders the house.
Pearl, on the other hand, is very chatty. She and I talk to each other all the time. Pearl is much more outgoing, whereas Chester is somewhat reserved. Pearl would be quite happy to spend most of the day on the lap of one of her two favorite humans. And then at night she likes to stretch out between my legs from my feet to my knees. Pearl really knows how to relax and loves being near her people.
It has been quite the journey from being a never cat person to a cat lover. Last year, we went on the trip of a lifetime to Europe. Know what I was most concerned about? Being away from Chester and Pearl for 10 days. That’s the truth, and I don’t care who knows it.
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