- Master of Time
- Posts: 3621
- Joined: December 7th 2016, 2:47pm
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...and I guess that what Allison wrote, about resistance being futile and that now I'm owned by the cat, was downright prophetic.
I'm now, like, buying damn cat food on my way from work, like. She's a voracious beast. In terms of the volume of food to body size ratio, she sure beats my best scores in stuffing my stomach, once laboriously achieved at a Chinese restaurant and a Tex-Mex joint. The fucking fuzzball would just eat and eat.
The cat stays at home as she wishes. She doesn't even try to murder the parakeets anymore.
She did have a "raccoon" episode with knocking over the bin. Once. Didn't try it again.
She's very gentle, for a cat. Didn't scratch me once. Well, OK, she did, incidentally - I fell asleep on the couch, the cat climbed onto my lap, and when I woke up, I didn't notice her, and as I was getting up, she tried to catch balance and grabbed the only thing she could, that being my leg. The whole homestead rang out with a howling "KUUUURRRRRRRRRRRWAAAAAAAA!" Because it did hurt more than a bit. Anyway, she never scratched me on purpose. She surely can give a displeased meow when I remove her from my pillow, but that's that. She knows full well that she's welcome on the armchair and the couch, and most of the bed, but she's to stay away from the pillow.
All I can say is that it feels very...different from having a dog. A bit like me, she chooses to come when called only if so she wishes. Verbal commands are useless. Reckon it's a long way to understanding a cat. In many ways, these creatures seem to have a mind of their own more so than humans. And it's slightly beyond me why exactly is she so fond of a cardboard box.
So, yeah. I am owned by a cat.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation