“As anyone who has ever been around a cat for any length of time well knows, cats have enormous patience with the limitations of the human kind.” ~ Cleveland Amory
I know that it’s popular wisdom to say that cats can remember the time when the Egyptian’s worshiped them as gods and that consequently they still tend to regard their human housemates their slaves, but you see my cat just isn’t like that. I’m pretty sure that my cat thinks of us as the two amigos.
Maybe it’s because at nine months old she’s still really just a baby. Or maybe it’s because I stopped working shortly after she came to live with me and she’s a house cat, so she sees rather a lot of me. But instead of treating me with disdain, or only paying me attention when she can be bothered with company, my cat thinks that we should be hanging out together most of the time. The rest of time being devoted of course to sleeping.
Although even when she’s sleeping she prefers to be snuggled up to me.
Everywhere I go she follows me. Everything I pick up she wants to investigate. Everything I eat she wants a share of – even if it’s omnivore food. If she finds something imperceptibly new about the apartment she insists that I go and take a look at it. She jumped up and down on my chest and miaowed at 4 am until I got out of bed and looked out of the window the very first time she saw snow.
When I try to get on with working, or even to just have some time to myself she’s apt to interrupt by launching herself into my arms for a cuddle or dropping toys in my lap that she then expects me to throw for her.
She spends hours on end not wanting anything but just staring at me.
And the last time I caught her doing it occurred to me that she’s spoiling me for other company. No human being is ever going to find me anywhere near as fascinating as she does.
This must be something similar to how a narcissist feels. (Yes, I know that writing about my cat on the internet and expecting people will read it suggests that I’m at least mildly narcissistic as well.) They suspect that they will never find anyone who is as interesting to them as they are to themselves. I’m aware that when I finally get back out into the big wide world no-one, not even someone who’s madly in love with me, will ever pay me as much attention as I’m use to receiving from this moggy.
Admittedly if they did I’d probably try to have them arrested as some kind of a creepy stalker, and yet I still somehow find the thought vaguely depressing.
On an only slightly related note; in two thousand years time, when archaeologists dig up what remains of the internet and see that it’s 40% porn, 10% social media, and 50% percent lol cat memes, they’re going to add this to their knowledge of the ancient Egyptians and assume that we revived that feline idolatry tradition.