Our neighbourhood is in an older part of Edmonton, just across the river from downtown but far enough away that it has more of a quaint aura. It is filled with late 19th century homes and small, local businesses that house artists, documentary film-makers, pretentious restaurants that are only open three days a week, organic food shops selling everything from local coffee to high quality pet food, and – of all things – image consultants. We are also lucky enough to have a small veterinary office less than five blocks down the road, right next to an artisanal bakery and a diner that advertises five-dollar breakfasts.
Until last week, I never noticed the cat that lives inside the vet clinic. I don’t know how I missed him as he sleeps in the window of the office right by the sidewalk. But now that I have found him, I can’t resist an opportunity to pass the clinic to say hello.
Neither can Shiva.
When we first saw him lounging on top of his comfy furniture, I made her sit away from the window for fear she would scare him off. However, being a kitty who lives in a pet hospital, he seems to be accustomed to dogs and instead of darting away, he leapt down to the door in order to greet her.
I was stunned by how intrigued he was by her and how calm Shiva was in return. I never would have let her get so close if there hadn’t been a door in the way but I have a feeling even without the partition they could be good friends.
Shiva has always adored cats. Unfortunately, she comes on too strong and most of them despise her in return. I am so glad she has found a quasi feline companion. Even if their affection must be tempered by glass.
There are a lot of worthwhile causes out there. When it comes to saving animals, there is no shortage of groups standing up for what they think is right. It is a commendable thing to witness. I firmly believe we are on a positive track. There is a lot of work to be done, yes, but there has been so much solid change enacted by people like you and I that I refuse to be pessimistic. There will come a time when puppy mills are a hideous part of North America’s history. Maybe even in our lifetimes. We just need to keep putting on the pressure and keep telling our stories.
I’ve seen the proof of this for myself. My natural cynicism was challenged and defeated. All it took was the campaign of a single cat: the late Tuxedo Stan.
Stan’s story was age-old. He was one of four kittens born to an abandoned mother in Halifax, Nova Scotia. She was rescued while in the later stage of her pregnancy and gave birth three weeks later. It is a situation all too common in my former city where they estimate the population of cats may be close to 100,000. In a region of just over 300,000 humans, this is a wee bit off the charts. Stan and his brothers were lucky. If his mother hadn’t been found, her kittens likely would not have survived.
Still, aside from the tragic aspects, there was nothing to set him apart from the countless other kittens who find their way to rescue organizations in cities across the continent. He was just one little cat who managed to find a decent home. Something that happens all the time, even if not as often as it should. So why was he so famous? Why did he garner the attention of Ellen DeGeneres or the New York Times? Was it just because he was so stinkin’ pretty?
Not quite. You see, Stan’s human family was special. They knew his good looks could only go so far. However, they also knew that with a few well-written slogans, they could turn him into a cover model for change.
I admit, I thought the concept of putting a cat on the mayoral ballot was ludicrous. I first encountered Stan and his crew while attending a fundraising auction for a popular cat rescue organization in town. They showed up at the pub with their wild t-shirts and their naive beliefs and I rolled my eyes. Wing-nuts, I muttered to my PH. Do they really think their silly campaign is going to make a difference? Everyone is just going to think they are crazy cat people. Regardless, as the evening progressed, I watched something pretty stunning happen. As someone who has worked for a few charities and who has attended a lot of auctions, I have never before seen so much money dropped so willingly for a cause. I am talking gift certificates going for more than twice their value! Dorky little donated crafts ensnaring more cash than I spent on weekly groceries! It was astounding. And almost all of it came from Stan’s corner of the room. They walked the walk and then some.
Over the next few months, the enthusiasm and publicity only grew. Stan’s people were clever. They knew just how to play the crowd. Utilizing social media, they told simple stories of Stan’s campaign trail that were humourous and touching. They knew when to be serious and when to tug the heart-strings. Like any politician, Stan even had his share of scandal when an erroneous story leaked about his supposed love children. Hugh Chisholm, Stan’s human, who also happens to be a veterinarian, played it just right.
Alas, it was not to be. Stan never actually made it to the ballot, despite his best efforts. But that doesn’t mean their hard work failed. Quite the opposite. Even if the feline never had a chance at winning the race, he did achieve his goal of raising awareness of the plight of cats. He also did something even better.
Because of the celebrity of one distinguished cat, something unprecedented happened. In May 2013, the Halifax regional council voted to give $40,000 to the Nova Scotia SPCA in support of a discounted spay and neuter program. Yes, you read that right. $40,000 to help curb HRM’s massive cat overpopulation problem all because of a beautiful cat and his passionate humans.
I am now a believer. The story of Tuxedo Stan, and his brother Earl Grey, will remain in my mind forever. Sadly, Stan passed away last year. In my mind, he left a legacy that will continue on long past his too-short lifetime. He proved to me that it doesn’t matter how difficult the issue or how stubborn the audience. I will never doubt the power of a good story ever again.
As bloggers you have the ability to write your own tales and change lives the way Stan’s followers did. Sure, a $40,000 goal may seem a bit lofty at first but if they could do it, I don’t think it is silly to say we all have the ability. We just need the passion; we just need to believe it is possible enough to try.
It’s not easy. So much of this feels futile. I know everyone reading this already cares, already knows how crucial these issues are. We keep talking and it seems like we never reach the people who most need to hear. It is insane to think of how many people still don’t know where pet store puppies are sourced, or who don’t even consider the problems of featuring whales in a parade float. This isn’t because they are bad people. They have just never been presented with a different view in a compelling way. Stan was able to reach these people. He was able to capture the attention of non-cat-loving Haligonians. Not because he was unique, but because his story was told in a positive and interesting way. Most people, when given the chance, will change their actions. Unfortunately, the battle-scarred combatants on the front lines of animal welfare often just don’t have the energy any more.
This is where you come in. As a writer, as someone who knows how to use social media to market your blog, you can tell these stories. You have the ability to encourage people to question and to make new choices. Your creative and inspiring words can motivate others to take action. As I’ve always said, when it comes to the Internet you never know who is paying attention. Stories have a sneaky way of reaching people who weren’t even seeking the information. It might start small. Stan’s people worked for long hours behind the scenes before they landed on such a winning idea. Years later, looking at all they have achieved and realizing how many lives one pretty cat saved, I can’t help but come away with this one thought: never doubt the power of a well told story.
I know this person. Let’s call her… Morgan. Yes, Morgan. Because it is not remotely similar to her real name. Morgan is older than I am and have never owned a pet in her whole life. It is something I have found tragic during the short period in which we have been acquaintances. Now that Morgan’s children are adults and fending for themselves, she finds herself a bit lost for company. Her husband has passed and she has never made time for hobbies. Morgan is a neat and organized sort of person who has her routines. While she spends the majority of her time at home, on rare occasions she does like to travel. She doesn’t like mess or nonsense but she does need a few more reasons to smile.
Since I do not know Morgan all that well, I have been cautious in my interactions. Being a huge pet lover, it hasn’t been easy to hold back. From the instant I heard her story I wanted to jump up and down, telling her all about the awesomeness of cats and how a feline is the answer to her loneliness. Based on my experience, I knew this wasn’t the right approach. If I rammed cat ownership down her throat she was more likely to continue her lifelong pet celibacy than give in. No, I had to warm her up to the idea. I waited and hoped for the right moment, the perfect segue, the ideal lull where I could hint about how much I love my cat and how much he has brought to my life.
I have never been a genius at social cues and I guess I waited a bit too long. Morgan has definitely warmed up to the idea of bring home a furry companion. It just isn’t the one I would have recommended. Rather than a self-sufficient adult cat who loves to cuddle, she is now considering a puppy.
TC is confused. Why would anyone pass up a kitty for a drooly dog?*
I don’t think I need to outline why I think this is a bad idea for Morgan. The last thing I want to look like is a puppy-hater but there are some people who would be much happier if they remain dog-free. You know? Though I have had limited interactions with Morgan, I do believe she is one of these people. Dogs are dirty. They are needy. They require extra grooming, extra time, extra training, and nigh-constant maintenance. Even breeds I think are easier for first-time owners, require a large commitment. A commitment for which I don’t think Morgan – as lovely a woman as she is – is prepared. Dogs can be dangerous and destructive in the wrong hands. Not that I believe Morgan’s dog would be unruly or troublesome but it is something every dog owner needs to consider.
But how do I tell her, this strong woman whom I greatly, without causing injury? How does one nudge someone in a direction in which one thinks would be better for all parties? How do I, a dog lover to the max, turn someone away from adopting a dog?
Perhaps I am thinking of this the wrong way. Yes, I am firm in my beliefs that Morgan should adopt an older cat as her first pet. On the other hand, it isn’t my decision to make. Even if I envision disaster for Morgan and her new puppy, that doesn’t mean this is what will occur. She has raised children, after all. It is possible that I am wrong and she will thrive with a canine friend. I certainly did. Maybe instead of discouraging her thoughts, I should offer encouragement in the form of resources.
Ultimately, I am just afraid she will get a dog, the dog will do something wrong, she will return the dog, and then never consider pet ownership ever again. A situation that occurs every day. I want better for Morgan. I want her to get a cat she will love and who won’t demand nearly so much energy. Of course, it isn’t about me, is it? And that’s the trouble with it all.
How does one know when to step in and when to keep one’s mouth shut?
I love this video. I found it originally when it was shared by Cindy Lu’s Muse on Facebook. It proves that cats are creative and smart, maybe even just as intelligent as dogs. It also shows that there are times when cats and dogs can work together and be friends. To be fair, the cat in this video, Dexter, I think his name is, may have been acting out of purely selfish motivations. He wanted to open that door and escape the laundry room as much as the dog did. Despite that, they still both achieved the same goal. The cat didn’t mind the fact that the dog was there, waiting for him to achieve glory.
This little scene would never happen in my household. No, no. It’s not that my cat – The Cat, or “TC” as the author of Kol’s Notes nicknamed him a long time ago – isn’t clever enough to figure this out, especially if he was given such easy access. I wouldn’t doubt he’d have that door open in seconds. However, if he thought the dog stood to gain from his efforts, he’d never go through with it. He would find some other way, maybe open a window instead or tease Shiva to make her think the coast was clear and then WHAM! Slam the door in her face.
Yes, TC is this diabolical. I mean, look at him. Does this look like an innocent face to you?
No, no it doesn’t. Don’t let his fuzziness fool you. Inside that fluffy chest is a heart of black steel.
For instance. Less than an hour or two ago, we were all hanging out in the living room after a long day at work. Shiva is still regulated to the couch, a prison that is harder and harder for her to endure every single day. In particular, tonight she has been more persistent than ever in her protests that she is well enough to walk around in perfect freedom. The veterinarian’s orders would say otherwise, so on the couch she remains.
In walks The Cat. In all his autonomous magnificence. The first thing he does, the first thing, is walk up to the dog, sniff her feet, and then lay down on the floor directly in front of her.
When I say lay down, I mean he sprawls in a fashion he would never dare if he suspected the dog had the ability to pounce on him. He knows Shiva is stuck on the couch. He doesn’t know why, but he knows when he prances in front of her, that he is safe, lest she get in serious trouble. So he revels in taunting her. It’s the same way he used to pester her when she was stuck behind the baby gate at the top of the stairs, or the way I am positive he ridicules her when she is locked in her crate during the day. It’s the haughty, prideful, cruel mocking of a true bully.
Yes, my cat is a bully and Shiva is his favourite victim. Unfortunately, he is also smarter than she is and thus, she ends up falling for his mean set-ups every single time.
After only five minutes of tail-flicking and sidelong glances, TC had Shiva completely freaking out tonight. I stopped paying attention to her for less than a second and she immediately took advantage by leaping off the couch and on top of The Cat.
A pretty big violation of her recovery strategy.
For those who might be worried about Hi Excellency’s safety, he is just fine. Better than fine. Dog antagonizing mission accomplished he walked away with his tail swinging high while we yelled at the dog while simultaneously fussing over her stitches. TC always gets the last laugh. Always.
It’s always been this way. The Cat lives to torment the dog. I sincerely believe it is one of his greatest joys. I just can’t wait for the day when Shiva is given free reign of the house again. By then she will have two weeks’ worth of energy to burn. There is a lot of damage a tornado can enact with so much force behind it. Kitty better watch out.
The sad thing is, even at her worst, Shiva ends up backing down to the merciless feline. She can fight with all of her weapons bared but in the end only one of them will end up behind the toilet. And it won’t be the orange one.
I’ve been meaning to share this gobsmacking video for a few weeks. I knew I would need time to come up with the right adjectives. Apparently there isn’t a word superlative enough in the dictionary as all I keep thinking is wow.
This is the stuff for which I have been searching: definitive proof that cats are just as awesome, just as trainable as dogs.
There are so many things I love about this. The fact that the handler is a young boy, the fact that the equipment is accessible and can be put together by anyone, the fact that the cats were trained using a clicker. Not to mention, it looks like he happens to be Canadian and I am not above a bit of patriotism.
All of the cats seem to be enjoying themselves. I doubt they would do it otherwise. It’s fascinating to note the way they jump as compared to the way I am used to seeing dogs move over the obstacles. Clearly when motivated, cats can get much, much higher.
The above video isn’t even my favourite of all 85 posted on his Youtube channel. It’s just the most flashy. The one I like the most shows footage of Daniel King teaching his cat named Puffy basic tricks. The relationship between human and feline in this video is so evident that I beam all the way through.The best part is how excited he gets when Puffy learns something new. Their connection is beautiful to watch.
I gotta admit, I am envious. This is the way I wish I could approach training with both of my pets all the time. Daniel King is patient, gentle, and incredibly dedicated. With his attitude, I suspect he’ll well known in the animal world one day.
Reading all the varied opinions on spay and neuter surgeries has been enlightening. When I was a kid, it seemed like it was just what you did. If you had a dog or cat, you made sure he or she couldn’t have babies. It was a no-brainer. When I entered the world of animal welfare as an adult, at first it baffled me how many people didn’t automatically alter their pets. Unless one plans on breeding, I didn’t understand why she would take the risk. Now I realize it is a lot more complicated than that.
There are many good reasons people have for not spaying or neutering their pets. I trust that everyone reading this today knows all about the costs and benefits. I’m not going to ramble on about it again. You all are responsible and have made your decisions in the best interests of your family. It’s part of why we get on so well.
The struggle begins when trying to reach those who don’t read the literature – people who genuinely don’t know the costs and benefits of spaying and neutering. These are the people who might need the information shared by organizations across the continent in promotion of the big event.
By this point, you all know how I feel about cats. More specifically, you know how I feel about the massively massive overpopulation of cats and how these beautiful animals are often ignored, abandoned, and then euthanized. It is impossible for me to think of spay and neuter programs without immediately thinking of the feline plight. In my opinion the latter cannot be improved without the former. These neglected animals are the reason World Spay Day exists.
The large cat overpopulation problem has been building for decades. There is no one individual or group to blame. Most people who bring home pets have the best of intentions. No one adopts a cat unless one enjoys being around animals. People might be misinformed but they are not purposefully negligent. Yet, no matter how kind the thought, priorities change. Life happens. Vet care is expensive. Things get busy. Appointments are pushed off. Indoor cats escape. Things get busier. Pets get forgotten.
I understand. There is a lot to think about every day. That’s why spaying and neutering is so vital. It’s kind of like insurance. I don’t want to think about how many litters of kittens my cat could have sired by now if he wasn’t altered. Between Calgary and Halifax, he might have had quite a crew of offspring. And we’d never even know it. Getting him snipped prevents me from having to worry about his fatherly duties. I’d hate to think of more cats killed due to my own ignorance.
Cats like this guy:
And this guy:
And even these guys:
They are the lucky ones. None of the above cats will ever have to face euthanasia because they are unwanted. I wish I believed they were the majority. Cats deserve better. All companion animals deserve better.
World Spay Day isn’t about debating whether or not it’s healthier to keep a dog intact for two years, or five years, or forever. It’s about saving lives. The animals aided in these promotions aren’t the ones owned by knowledgeable humans making informed choices. They are the ones who may otherwise face abandonment or death.
It’s a cause I am pretty sure we can all get behind.
Ever since I read this post on No Dog About It regarding a deeper understanding of dog behaviour, I have been carefully observing the way Shiva and I interact in a physical way. It’s been an interesting process. I’ve always tried to pay attention to her signals and I feel she is pretty good at telling me when she doesn’t want to be pet. Space is something of which I am very mindful as it is something I like to preserve for myself. Being private and somewhat of a loner, I don’t appreciate a lot of unexpected touching. I like to think I respect my dog’s wishes in this area as much as possible.
Then again, with such a cute face in front of me, and such soft ears, it can be hard to put all my tactile urges aside. I am human, after all, with a need to connect with whom I love. I can’t talk to Shiva and get her to relate to me that way; touching seems to be the best alternative.
But does she always welcome this? That’s what I want to understand.
When I consider our previous interactions, I do think Shiva lets me know when she wants petting and when it is the last thing on her mind. For instance, I know she is not a fan of public displays. Anytime we are out of the house and I reach out to scratch her ears, she pulls away. In agility class, when I try to stroke her side as we wait our turn on the sidelines, she immediately leaps up and away from my reaching hand. However, at home, behind closed doors, she often seems to seek out physical affection. At least as far as I can tell.
It’s hard to be objective about this sort of thing. I can’t really separate my emotions. I get a lot out of petting my animal companions so it’s natural that I assume (hope??) they do too. When I give affection, I want it to be interpreted with all my intended love. It would be awful to think my animals would rather duck and cover.
I shot some video footage and I’d love to hear what you think Shiva is trying to tell me. The scenes in the video below were taped about half an hour after I returned home from work. Just enough time for Shiva to have calmed down but before her nightly walk.
In contrast, I will also share a video of my attempts to show my affection for The Cat. I won’t say what I think he is trying to tell me but in my opinion he is even better at setting his boundaries than Shiva. Cats are awesome that way, aren’t they?
Are your pets good at communicating when they like to be touched?
Sunday was a bittersweet day for us, or maybe just for me. It was the day our spunky little foster kitten went to the shelter to find his forever home. The house doesn’t feel quieter without him around, but it does feel a bit empty. Aside from a few photos here and there, I haven’t discussed the little bugger much here. Knowing the date for Blog the Change was approaching I saved all my big foster-related stories for today in hopes I could convince someone else to give it a try.
I can’t say whether or not my fostering experience was at all typical as it was my first time. It’s something I wanted to do for a long time but I was afraid of being a failure. Not a “foster failure”, in the normal sense – I wasn’t worried I’d be tempted to keep the kitten. I was more afraid that I would screw the animal up or that something would go wrong and the animal would get hurt and it would be all my fault. The last thing the world needs is one more person with good intentions getting in over her head. However, I read so many positive accounts and I know what a difference providing an extra space for homeless cats makes, that I decided to just go for it. With all the resources at my disposal I figured if the worst thing happened, I would have lots of help. And if it turned out to be awful, I never had to do it again.
The whole process was simpler than I expected. I didn’t have to sign away my life and apparently, they don’t require foster parents to have a degree in veterinary medicine! My mind was blown. The kitten we took in was healthy and had little trouble adapting to our home. It wasn’t long before caring for him became just another part of our daily routine. The organization we fostered for provided us with all the food and litter, as well as a bed and cage for him to hang out in when unsupervised. All we had to do was feed him, give him fresh water, play with him, and watch him grow. Even I can get that right.
My concerns for how my own pets would handle the addition were also set at ease. Our nutjob of a dog was a lot better with him than I ever expected. Over-excited, yes, but she kept her prey drive in check and was more interested in sniffing his butt than treating him like a toy. After a few days of clicking-and-treating her for good calm behaviour, Shiva learned how to handle his presence. Our cat was another matter. He didn’t appreciate the young feline in his territory and only grew to dislike him more the longer he stuck around. However, there was an easy solution to that problem: we kept them separated. The kitten and his set up remained in a spare room behind a closed door. This way all interactions between the animals were strictly supervised. If things looked like they might derail, the kitten could beat an easy retreat.
Unfortunately, as much as I’d love to say fostering was all sunshine and rainbows, there was a moment early on in which I wondered if I was cut out for the task.
At this point the kitten had been with us for almost seven days and was about five weeks old. I had gone out that morning to purchase a new toy for him, something we could play with together. All excited, I opened the door to the kitten’s room, singing out to him: “Kiiittttennnn, look what I haaave!”
I waved the feathered toy over the top of the cage and moved to open the door. He was laying by his food bowl and didn’t stir, not even when the cage door clanged against the bars.
I reached my hand inside and stroked his head with a finger. He still didn’t move. I picked him up and noticed the towel beneath him was wet. He lifted his head when I cradled him in my arms but his eyes remained closed. I put him down on the carpet and he remained still.
I started to freak out.
Several frantic text messages and multiple phone calls later, we drove him as quickly as we could back to the rescue. My contact had suggested we try giving him some corn syrup in case he had just run himself into a coma. But after slathering it all over his mouth there was little change. He had turned from a fuzzball of hyperactivity into a withdrawn and lethargic baby. He wasn’t interested in any of his toys and seemed to have trouble moving. It was as if he had been drugged. Fortunately, we didn’t have to go far to get help. The woman in charge of the rescue reassured me there was nothing I could have done and took him back into her care.
A few more days passed and the wee lad had made a full recovery. No one knew what had caused his sudden downturn but all seemed well again. He was a singleton, his siblings having already not made it. When kittens are that young and have no known medical history, it’s a guessing game. I was asked if I wanted to take him back for the remainder of his foster care.
I was unsure. The biggest reason I didn’t want to foster was because I was scared something bad would happen. What if I took him back and he became ill again? What if I was at work or in bed at the time? What if I found him and it was too late? All of those questions and more crossed my mind. In the end, I decided to bring him home again. I had made a commitment and would see it through. I felt I owed him that.
Luckily, the worst never happened. As far as I could tell he remained in perfect health the rest of his stay with us. That doesn’t mean he was easy, of course! He is a kitten, after all. Crazy one minute, then sweet and snuggly the next. When I opened the door to his room, I never knew which I was going to get. And I still have the scars to prove it!
Now that he is gone, off to a new life, I do miss him a little. No doubt he is cute enough to get himself adopted right away. I just hope the mischief make behaves himself well enough to stay there. I feel fortunate that I got to be a part of his beginning. Fostering is definitely one of the more rewarding things I have done in the last year. It was fun having a new animal around and I got a kick out of watching him learn. Every day brought something new into his world. Hanging out with him gave me a new appreciation for the little things.
Who knew beer boxes made such good forts?
So have I convinced you yet? I hope I’ve at least inspired you to consider it. In my opinion, whatever stress is involved is well-worth the benefit you get from helping a little fluffy animal get his first start in life. And this is coming from me, a professional worrier. If I can do it, anyone can.
While trolling Facebook for inspiration, as one does, I came across a link to an Ellen DeGeneres clip. Ordinarily daytime talk television holds no interest for me. However, when I see the words “cat” and “video” put together it’s pretty much a given I am going to be checking it out. Isn’t there a law somewhere that dictates as much? Pretty sure it was added to the Constitution of Canada three days after the Internet became a thing.
So I clicked and watched one of the saddest attempts at a cat video I have ever seen. My opinions on Russell Brand’s form of comedy notwithstanding, one would think a celebrity could come up with something more creative than this:
If his cat wasn’t so cute, I probably would have stopped watching halfway through.
Celebrities, eh? Do they think people just film these things in their homes, with no planning whatsoever? That it’s so easy? Sheesh. The best cat videos take many minutes of hard work. The cats need to be groomed and prepped and well-rehearsed before one ever turns on a camera. Clearly Mr. Brand didn’t contact Kittywood Studios before he thought of featuring the venerable Morrissey on screen. He’s never going to get fifty million hits without them.
Adopt a Shelter Cat Month may be long over but I am sure there are still plenty of people out there interested in adopting a rescued feline for their own. If you are one of these people you may want to re-think your plans. Sure, cats make wicked pets. It’s a privilege to share your life with one. However, there are several caveats to cat ownership that may change your mind:
- As Pamela from Something Wagging This Way Comes learned, cat people are way cooler than dog people. Say goodbye to those hoodies and jogging pants. Cat people move in high style. If your fashion budget isn’t prepared for the sheer sartorial splendour a cat will bring you, then it’s best to back out before it’s too late.
- Cat videos are the most commonly searched item on Youtube. If you don’t have a camera with which to capture all your cat’s moments of magnificence, there is no point in having a feline pet at all.
- Cats make dogs look downright foolish. Shiva is around 40 pounds of muscle. Our cat is 11 pounds of fluff. He frequently sends her fleeing with a lift of his paw. From the first day she entered our home he made it very clear she would be subservient to him. If you aren’t ready to see your rugged shepherd turn into a cowering puppy, you may not want to get a cat.
- When you have a cat, you are no longer in charge of your household. Everyone knows that dogs have owners and cats have staff. Even the loyal Kenzo learned to obey the cat first and his people second. Forget about keeping them off the furniture or attempting to retain ownership of any high space in your home. Windowsills, mantels, chairs, beds, shelves, the top of the refrigerator, these all belong to the cat now. You are just going to have to find another place to put those picture frames.
- Speaking of photos, any you take in the home are all going to include your cat. They practically invented the concept of photobombing. You may think you are snapping a shot of Aunt Margaret standing by the window but if you give it a closer look, you’ll probably spot your kitty hovering somewhere.
- You may have heard that cats are very clean animals. This is definitely true. Unfortunately, this obsession with neatness and grooming causes some not-s0-tidy consequences. There is nothing like the sound of a cat puking up a hairball at three o’clock in the morning. Especially when you know the cat is somewhere between you and the light switch. And your feet are bare.
- Your dog probably greets you at the door with a wagging tail and a lolling tongue. Your cat will greet you too but more likely with a sneer and an accusatory meow. If you have low self-esteem, a cat may not be for you.
- If you are a man, a cat will get you far too much attention from the opposite sex. Any doubters can just ask my PH. Heterosexual females should check out I Have Cat’s Man Cat Monday and I bet they’ll have to agree. What male wants countless women hanging around his front door or begging for his phone number? What a hassle.
- Finally, cats are beautiful creatures with individual personalities and many gifts to share. They deserve just as much love and affection as a dog and if you don’t think you can provide this, then it’s probably best you steer clear. There are enough neglectful cat owners out there, the world doesn’t need another cat abandoned on the street because a human wasn’t prepared for the responsibility of a pet.
So what do you think? Have I changed your mind? If you are brave enough to take the risk and willing to lose your heart to a feline friend, - snobbish ways, puke, and all – the right one is just a few clicks away.