A History of Cats

Because I feel obliged to give one--a history, that is--if I'm soon to get one--a cat, that is.

The first were two siamese cats. Not mine--my mum's friend's. She had a little dog, too, who was sweet. But these cats...they were just like the ones in Lady and the Tramp. Or at least they seemed that way. I got scratched and freaked out because I was young. Decided then and there that I was a dog person. Fuck cats.

A couple years ago, before I moved, a little apple faced siamese started coming to our door. She wasn't little, actually; she was well fed, groomed, and friendly, so we knew she was one of the neighbors'. But when we left the back door open she'd wander up the porch and sneak in, wander all around like a prospective buyer and then flop down like she owned the place. We fed her whatever meat we had in the fridge. She wandered over every day it didn't rain, took some food, slept and purred on my bed for awhile, and then would leave. She always knew when she had to go home. It was odd. I don't know where she got it in her head to start visiting a bunch of dog people. But then, we were dog people without a dog, and that space left behind is just enough for a cat to creep through.
Because cats don't have collar bones and that will never cease to fascinate me.
Eventually, we left. I hope she left, too. I hope she really did have a good place to go home to.


One (two?) years ago, almost exactly now, I started volunteering at an animal shelter. I spent most of my time in the cat room, because I couldn't handle the dogs--not literally, but mentally. I think I cried my first day. They were too familiar. Too sweet. So I hung out in the cat room, and what is there to do but play with cats, then? Cuts and bites everyday; had to keep band-aids in the car. If I don't have toxo yet, I never will. I remember the names of all my favorites; Remington, Sonny, Simba, Buck, and Popcorn; grey, tabby, lynx point, black, black. I got so close to taking them home with me. Sonny gave me a lovely gash up the arm when he jumped down from his cage and into my arms; Popcorn liked licking faces. Simba drooled. Remington was incredibly shy, especially in a cage of three other very outgoing cats. But you could tell he wanted something, so if you managed to get him away from the others, he was a quiet sweety.


My sister's name is long and arduous, so I've always called her Kat. I think I might be the only one who does now. When I go home, I become incredibly comfortable in my language; I'm a amazed by how little I can say and how much can still be understood from it. My sentences degenerate into crap. I overuse the word "thing," but still, the thing in mention is always understood. And eventually, I just start making cat noises. I'm not entirely sure when this started. Probably after I realized a cat will in fact talk back to you if you meow--and not the word 'meow'. Words are crap. Just the sound. So when I spend enough time back at home, I start lounging in rooms that aren't mine (namely my sister's) and making cat noises when I want some OJ. I'd stop if it didn't work, but...it does. Super cereal.


When I'm around a cat, I have two voices--my "hey I'm talking to you cat" voice, which is my normal talking voice, and...making cat noises. I've never used voices or personalities for my animals, but I can understand them, I guess. I dunno. From my experience, if you walk into a room of cats and make certain sounds instead of others, you've instantly got the attention of every cat. That, or if you bring wet food. Cats love wet food so much it makes me lololololol.

I am still a dog person; I am still a dog in the way I smile and the way I love and the way I defend. But I'm not in the right situation to get a dog, and I have too many things tied up in dogishness for now.
Cats are the same, but different. Unfamiliar--I still don't know the right way to pick one up, so I just hold them like a bunch of awkward laundry. There isn't that much difference between a cat and a dog, but there is just enough of one, I think, for me to feel comfortable with getting the former this summer. Mid June.

I feel like I've seen this cat picture somewhere before. ...And that's how you know you're part of a community that spams a shit-ton of cat pictures. Win.

I already have a name in mind. And I would like to say it, but it is terribly silly, and the only thing that will make it less silly will be its placement on an actual cat, I think. So I will keep mum on it until then.