I have a major confession to make; I love my cats as much as any one of my family members. I know there are probably people out there who think that’s pretty unhealthy, I really don’t give a shit. A lot of people might think I’m a pretty big prick for loving these animals as much as I love certain humans, such as my mother, father or brother. I don’t know what to say. If my father’s life were at risk along with one of my cats, and I could only save one, I would of course save my father’s. I would, however, probably grieve just as much for the loss of my feline companions as I would for any one of my family members.
I also get a lot of flack from my male friends who think cats aren’t masculine enough to be a true man’s pet of choice. In fact, I get a lot of flack from certain friends of any gender who just don’t like cats. I just think that some of these people don’t understand cats, and aren’t willing to learn. (I have nothing against dogs, in fact I’ve had a few, I’m just a cat guy.)
My cats are rarely trouble. They really appreciate affection. They have GREAT tastes in music!! I once got into an argument with my brother when he visited, and one of the cats would stand between us while we were arguing and look very concerned. She would meow, and even (very lightly) bit each of our pant legs a few times. The other cat knows when I’m feeling down. When I get upset, she ‘steps’ on my legs (like they do when nursing). They are often nice and quiet, and they give people their space. They are just perfect pets. They’ve watched me grow up, and have been there through good times and bad. They’re just like the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.
I have great friends, who I would die for. I’m not really comparing the two; they are completely different types of bonds. Same with family. It’s all apples and oranges. All I’m saying is that my cats are special, in their own way. I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.
Well said MyFootsZZZ. I love my cats and would rather spend time with them than many humans I know. And to be totally honest I would much rather share my bed with the cats than my husband, but that is mainly because they don’t snore.
My cats are my little family right now. I lost my Mom cat Dagny in a fire and it was almost as bad losing my Grandma. If I was given the choice to save my Gram or my Dag I would choose my Gram. At the same time losing my Dag, my pretty girl who I raised since she was a kitten, was a very big blow. I cried for weeks when I lost her.
My kittens keep me sane and are always there. They give me kitten love no matter how bad my day was.
As far as your male friends who claim that cats “aren’t masculine enough to be a true man’s pet of choice.” I have a simple argument.
My arguement runs thus: Dogs, which you claim represent the male ideal, slobber, beg and will do anything to get a little attention. On the other hand cats are independant, smart and demand attention when they want it. Dogs beg, cats DEMAND. Cats do not follow orders. Dogs will abase themselves for a treat. Cats demand treats as their birth right. Dogs chase balls when humans throw them. Cats chase toys only when they feel like it. Cats think that humans are their slaves. Dogs think humans are their masters. Cats have dignity, dogs slobber on any one who will give them attention.
Slee
In a war between dogs and cats, dogs would end up as slaves.
Blow all of them off like a pubic hair from your lips during sex!
{Did I actually type that?}
I detest people why play kissy-kissy-huggy-face with their pets and dress them like children. I completely understand how you might feel pets are like children. Any healthy pet owner (not “guardian”) loves the creature they raise, no exceptions.
That anyone questions your mentality, morality or sexuality shows their own intrinsic lack of reason or love for life. Pets are incredibly cool barometers of our individual human existence. They’re the finest companions when friends aren’t near. They devote themselves to you in ways that only your best friends do.
People are always taken aback when my husband starts in about his love for the kitties. My husband looks like Gandolf the Gray in Cammo. He adores the little softies (as do I). We recently had to put two down in 2 1/2 weeks. It was terrible. But we are hoping to get a new one this weekend. We’ve never had less than three until now, and it feels weird.
I’ve gotten all the same drivel from people I’ve known, MyFootsZZZ. Screw 'em. I love my two little boys as much as I love any person, I’d be crushed if I lost one of them. My oldest, Kit and I, are probably the closest things to best friends a guy and a cat can be. It’s amazing how well we know each other. He’s also done the thing where he’ll come to my aid if I’m involved in some sort of verbal sparring with another person. I assume he’d try and protect me if I was in a fight as well, but it hasn’t come up.
Cats rock. Besides, chicks dig guys guys with cats. (Don’t they? I was going to make an obvious lame-o joke there, but I restrained myself, you’re welcome.)
I have cats, and I love 'em, but they’re cats. They are going to die. Pets live maybe ten, twelve, years if you’re lucky, and you can’t fall to pieces everytime Fluffy has to be put down. You’re supposed to outlive your pets. I’ll be very upset when Lillian and Dorothy die, but it’s not like losing your parents or having a foot amputated.
When I was a little kid, we had a cat named Lady. One time late at night, my mom came to check up on me and she saw Lady at the foot of my bed, using her paw to cover my legs with the blanket.
Glad to know there are other male cat lovers on this board. I’ve always resented the notion that it’s not “manly” to have cats or be a cat lover. To hell with anyone who thinks this. I’ve had cats all my life and I just love the little guys with their furry, friendly-looking little faces. They are so soft and adorable, and few sounds are as great in life as the sound of a contented cat who purrs for you as you stroke his back and gently rub him behind his ears while he rubs up against you. My two cats (Hobbes and Patches) always come running to the window and are happily meowing and glad to see me come back home again after being gone to work all day. They’re like my children to me. They’re always in the same room as I am in. If I am sitting at my computer they’ll usually curl up down on the floor at my feet and they both sleep on my bed with me at night.
When The Future Mr. Mercy Street and I started dating, he was very wary of Hankyspank and Skippyroo. He acknowledged them, he sometimes petted them, but it was clear he could do without. … A year into the romance, I suggested he acquire a kitty of his own. (We live alone, in separate houses.) We checked out the selection at www.petfinder.org and hit upon Big Mac, who was described as “the biggest, tallest cat we’ve ever seen … a real puma-looking thing.” The moment I met Big Mac, I knew: Here was one of The Good Ones. … The Future Mr. Mercy Street is completely goofball over the cat, and the cat is nuts about him. What’s more, Hanky, Skippy, and Big Mac are ever so fond of one another. Mackie spends a week at a time at my house for Kitty Tune-Up, when he gets to socialize with His People. … It’s a blessed thing we have going on – it really is.
I won’t ever marry a guy who doesn’t appreciate cats.
I’ve heard of guys (and i reckon this probably applies to many tho they wouldn’t likely admit it) who had a strong hate of cats…until by some weird chance they ended up owning one…then their whole attitude changed
I would grieve for a cat’s death as much as any human, but it wouldn’t last nearly as long. I would be over it quickly because I know I am supposed to out live them. When a member of your (human) family passes away, it stays with you forever. Maybe I should have added this in my first post.
My ex-husband had gotten me a cat when we were first married. That cat was very precious to me. She came with me when the ex and I split up. She was attached to me, and didn’t care for other people very much.
When my current husband and I had our first date, he and I hung out at my house for a while after the movie. After a few minutes, my cat jumped in his lap and curled up to sleep. She had never done that to anybody else before, even the ex.
A rough paraphrase of someone’s elses definition of the difference between dogs and cats.
A dog looks at a human and thinks:
“This person feeds me, provides me with shelter, pets me, and provides all of my earthly needs. This person must be a god.”
A cat looks at a human and thinks:
“This person feeds me, provides me with shelter, pets me, and provides all of my earthly needs. I must be a god.”
I don’t know if any of you have read this, but The Cat Who Went to Paris by Peter Gethers is a great story about an affirmed cat-hater who gets a Scottish-Fold kitten named Norton.
I once got into an argument with my brother when he visited, and one of the cats would stand between us while we were arguing and look very concerned. She would meow, and even (very lightly) bit each of our pant legs a few times. The other cat knows when I’m feeling down. When I get upset, she ‘steps’ on my legs (like they do when nursing). They are often nice and quiet, and they give people their space. They are just perfect pets. They’ve watched me grow up, and have been there through good times and bad. They’re just like the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.