Goddamn Cat
Wednesday, April 17, 2013 at 08:04AM There is not a more complicated relationship than the one I have with our cat. I actually think part of the definition of "complicated relationship" is one where you wake up with a scratch on your nipple. She's a decent gal, but kind of a hussy. She'll make love to anyone or anything at any time of the day. Only slightly more awkward than a feminine hygeine commercial during family time is our grey and white stray purring, drooling and rubbing your chest with seductive paw strokes. It gets so intense I have to use our safe word "goddamn it you crazy cat" and make a swift move to avoid the aforementioined nipple snag. Paco can't take it, which often leads to more pain. When he lunges at her for infringing on his cuddle time, she reacts as any scared animal should, by piercing the flesh of the nearest human.
She's nuts. I'm not even sure she's all cat. Her tail suggests lemur, and her habit of walking to the dog park suggests masochist. What animal willingly goes to a place where she can get killed? And this isn't some perilous and necessary Incredible Journey for which she's risking her life, but just to get the attention of a hundred hounds cornering her in a tree. Several times people have asked, "who in their right mind would bring a cat here?" And I dutifully reply, "I have no idea."
Allie did not want to be photographed for this piece.We have friends who found this cat and took her in. And I'd like to stress that we still consider them our friends. We took over because she wasn't quite the right fit at their house, and it kind of makes me sad that she might be a better fit here. What does it say when a horny tyrant works well in your home? But she does and in kind of an annoying way--the kind of way that has me talking to an animal like I'm making diplomatic headway. "Listen, Allie, I love you," I plea beyond bloodshot eyes, "but you gotta stop meowing at 5am." And that's when I hear myself talking louder than she is.
Everyone with pets or kids or families--so I guess everyone--has a hard time explaining just how crazy their pets or kids or family are. Some are successful with one or two shining examples. Like my family, for example, took baths in a horse trough. That usually helps my storytelling. But with Allie there's not one major example of crazy to illuminate her nuttiness. It's just this strange, ongoing leaping and running about, constant meowing and her creepy Mafia-style takeover of every surface in the home. She's good that way, having moved from her first week under the couch, to a few weeks later in Paco's chair, to something like bestiality in our bed. Paco can only stare and whimper. He did all he could to scare her. As a matter of fact for two years he bolted around the house trying to break her. It was as if his brain reset every ten seconds and every time he saw her was the first time. Now, though, it's set in: there's another animal in the house, and to Allie, that's Paco. She's the queen, or whatever lemur monkeys call their leader. But she's that, and she proves it every morning at about 5am, when I curse aloud at an animal who must think I'm nuts.
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