Someone once asked me if my mother was a cat person, after I told her we'd always had cats growing up. It was a reasonable question, but it made me laugh. My mother is NOT a cat person, at least not in my way of thinking. A cat person adores cats. They love their cat ways, and respect them for their very cattiness. Perhaps my mother is the perfect example of someone for whom the phrase "animal companion" make sense than pet. Her cats have always been to her like family members---in the sense that we might not really get along with family members, they might drive us totally insane, we might wish they weren't around, but we will always care for them and we can't really live without them.
She sees cats as people--not in the sense that they have all the rights of people, but in the sense that she thinks they do everything they do with the MOTIVES of people. She is sure that they lie awake nights thinking of new ways to annoy her. She was sure they rubbed at her ankles just because they knew it bugged her, that they purposely slept in areas she didn't want them to in order to make her mad, that they meowed in annoying ways to drive her crazy, even that they purred in order to try to charm her into giving them treats. When they broke something, she would think they picked one of her favorite things on purpose to punish her somehow for not doing what she wanted.
She in turned picked cats that would have the neurotic personalities that would make her ideas seem true. She loves calicos, or what Mainers call money cats. And money cats, in my opinion, are often crazy cats. They are smart, interesting cats, but they can drive you straight up a wall. That is why all my adult cats have been black and white tuxedo cats---the total opposite of calicos!
Her current cat is the absolute epitome of crazy caliconess. Trixie is a very, very weird cat. She hates children, ALL children. Hates them to the extent that she tries to claw and bite them on sight. She has never been abused by a child, just doesn't like them for some reason. She really doesn't LOVE anyone but my mother, for whom she has an undying devotion tinged with much dysfunction. She will come running if my mother calls, but doesn't want to actually be held---she will on occasion sit next to her for long periods, though, more than anyone else gets. She's the kind of cat that makes me wonder if my mother is onto something about cat behavior---I really have seen her seem to eye my mother's figurines and pick a certain one to send plummeting to the floor. She's fearless about defending her territory, to the extent she once jumped on the back of a neighbor's rooster!
My mother complains about Trixie constantly. She also worries about her---for people type reasons---is Trixie feeling left out when people visit? Was Trixie upset by them being sick recently? Is Trixie bored by all the snow keeping her in? I wonder if next Trixie will be troubled by the prospect of civil war in Iraq.
Trixie goes where my parents go---she's been across the country in their trailer many times. She's my mother's friend, her 3rd child, her nemesis, her equal. But my mother a cat person? No.
recommend this
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 2