Pets
I’ve always identified as a dog person until we got our first pet cat a few years ago now. It’s taken me these past few years to understand that I may now be a cat person. I guess the human rule is that you have to be one or the other. I’ve always run up to others to please, to lap their face if they let me, to reach with my face and my paws, to at least stay close by their side. I now realize how truly annoying that can be for a human being, and I haven’t even gotten to sniffing hind quarters. I’ve been hurt. I’ve done harm. I’ve had my wagging tale fall between my legs. I’ve sleeked away, but always, always still watching to see if there’s an opportunity to please. Somewhere in the room, there’s a sleeping dog waiting and wanting to join. I’m going to let it rest there. So, my family and I met Pixie the kitten and brought him home from the dairy farm of my partner’s ex-fiance. Obviously, there’s a story there but it is hers to tell. Pixie was not a nice kitten that loved immediately. I have only one memory of Pixie ever fulling letting himself stretch out on my chest and relax. I was too much like a dog, always reaching to pet Pixie when he didn’t want to be pet. He was stunningly beautiful. His tabby-ness was random and glorious in both color and line. I could feel a sense of peace just looking at Pixie, and I drew him once. That’s the first time I have spontaneously drawn since grade school. Pixie was an outdoor cat, and he met a tragic end. I don’t feel all cats should be indoor now. He had a beautiful life, though short, and was meant to be an outdoor cat. If it wasn’t supposed to be that way, it wouldn’t have been that way. My daughter having suffered the pain of losing an outside cat led the way to our family adopting two kittens and keeping them indoors. It seems a good compromise to the indoor-outdoor question. One is a social kitten who follows activity eagerly and unguardedly. Zenia is curious as a kitten, playful and silly. We love her so. The other is the one that is converting me to a cat person, and we love her just as much. Her name is Pickles. She is not seen as often in the room when human beings are there. She sleeks in and out, scurries at noises and likes to be under furniture in an observing mode. She defends her self by shying away. She likes to be pet behind the ears and along her chin. It has taken a while to know this, and I’ve had to change. I used to reach out and follow her to pet her. Noting that she ran quickly from me, I started to simply reach out. I’d hold my hand out for a long time to no avail. Every time she entered an area within four feet of me, I’d hold out my hand. To no avail. Finally, she approached me along the back of the couch. I reached up and pet her. She left. She did it again. She came back. See, I didn’t think she’d come back because it took a long time. I thought she didn’t like how I pet her. I believe today that it didn’t have anything to do with me. She needed that much time and space to come back. She’s on a different time zone than a dog, and she’s on a different time zone than a dog person. I’m between time zones. I don’t identify as either a cat person or a dog person. While I love the intimacy of constant companionship, I also enjoy the solitude and quiet of being alone. While I love physical contact, I also enjoy the slower approach. While I love being close, I also enjoy the space between. Mostly, while I like life on my terms, I’m learn and enjoy it even more when I can experience it from another perspective. I’ll keep on walking as a two legged critter, occasionally reaching out a hand but without so much clutch and grasp. Letting go of expectations is a life long process for me whether I’m a dog person, a cat person, or simply just a person.
3 years ago • Notes