Blog: On Loving Cats

Every so often some would-be comic decides to compare cats and dogs and makes a list. Dogs are loving, caring, concerned for others. Cats are self-centered, cold, unpredictable. Ogden Nash once wrote, ”The trouble with a kitten is that, eventually it becomes a cat.” Nuts, I say! Cats get a bad rap. Understand, I also love dogs. But in an urban environment cats have a lot going for them.

When a cat wants out it’s no sweat. You open the door and out it goes. No leash, time out of your day, or picking up after it. And the cat is happy because it can entertain itself. It is has an inquiring mind and when it sees a bug on the ground it will paw it to determine if it’s alive. And to broaden its understanding of world events it will climb to the roof of your garage to better view activities beyond its immediate territory.

Most dogs (except very little ones) are not happy unless a frisby is in the air. When they look at you longingly you know they want a trip to Half Moon Bay and frisby on the beach. And when you can’t handle this because of high gas prices, you feel guilty all day and the dog is depressed. Throwing balls is only second best, and sticks are third best.

Cats seldom importune you with their eyes unless they are hungry, in which case one-third of a fifty-cent can of cat food solves that problem. And then you get to enjoy their tongue going this way and that, like a little pink windshield wiper. If you need to go away, the neighbor can handle things. And as if more was needed, cats can be very loving and often purr when you stroke and talk to them at the same time.

But admittedly there are one or two drawbacks. If you leave your earplugs around, the cat will play with them and they’ll wind up out of sight under the stove. And cats don’t always understand that it’s not cool to plunk down in front of the television screen. Cats don’t know right from wrong. They can be trained, but learn mainly because they have a good memory. When fixing to misbehave in some way, they recall that the last time they did the thing they got yelled at.  They didn’t like that and so decide to forego the temptation this time and remain a good cat.

Cats are quite smart. I think they can eventually learn their name and one other word. But that’s about it. My cat is heavily addicted to chasing a red laser dot around the rug. For months every time we played that game I would say “red dot” a lot. Now when I say it she immediately looks around the rug. Not bad, eh?

And don’t think you won’t get attached to them. You will. When we rented our house in Albany, our new landlady said, “Oh there’s one thing. The house comes with a cat named Fluffy. We’ve tried to place her next door, but she’s set on staying in this house.” We said “Right on!” and Fluffy became our cat.

Then a year or two later some friends “split the blanket” as they say, and Ovalteen arrived. Ovalteen wasn’t your most elegantly configured cat, being more like a little barrel scooting around on four twigs. But she was a sweetie and she and Fluffy reached a reasonable accommodation. She eventually became ill and the vet said her time was up. We brought her home, but soon we couldn’t find her and I knew that terrible feeling experienced by those with MIA’s. You need closure in these circumstances. I looked everywhere and finally found her in the creek behind our house, by that time gone to her maker. I made a little coffin and she now resides peacefully in our back yard flowerbed. 

And sometime later it was, sadly, Fluffy’s turn. A fall from a high bookshelf and the simultaneous crash of a heavy speaker hurt her beyond repair. Making her coffin I felt so bad I thought I’d expand it to a full-sized one and crawl in there with her. She’s also at peace in the flowerbed.

But the cats keep coming. My son moved from Albuquerque to Phoenix where circumstances made it hard to keep his cat. Her name was “Fuzz,” and after she flew to Albany (and drove us crazy for a day until we finally found her hiding inside our upright piano) she settled down and became our very sweet cat. She has a big tooth that doesn't quite fit in her mouth. The name Fuzz didn’t stick so we renamed her Catherine. (Cat for short.) And now I need to conclude this article before she decides to sit on my keyboard and make it go nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.