Chairman Meow
Common, maybe, but lacking in the sense department.
Goofy is a term we use at work. I probably shouldn’t have used it, here. It means “utterly lacking any semblance of logic”, which is a valid assessment of your arguments. Goofy takes less time to say or type, though.
I know what you were trying to say, as I mentioned. But, what you said is not what you meant. And, I don’t agree with either.
The argument that they won’t be around forever, as a reason to love another being less, is irrational. We can’t count on anyone being around for our entire lives. Most people see this as a reason to appreciate what we have while we have it. If you choose to see it as a reason to remain detached, go ahead. But, don’t propose that attitude as being logical, “common sense”, or somehow superior. I see that attitude as “unhealthy”, as you put it.
This sounds like the root of the issue. You’re so focused on the idea of cats being someone’s only loved ones that you’re not seeing what people are actually saying. Try to read and understand the posts, without projecting your situation onto them.
If you’re worried you’re becoming “a crazy spinster cat lady”, distancing yourself from your cats will not prevent it. Being “detached” is how one ends up heading down that road, in the first place. Perhaps if one can learn to let cats all the way into one’s heart, one can then learn to do the same with people.
If you see this as a flame, I apologize. It’s not intended that way.
I loved my Mr. Chin (aka shit face). He just always had this shit eating grin when he did something naughty. Anyway he died 5 years ago this past month and I still miss him a lot, but I’m glad he was part of my life.
It took me about 2 years to get Junior ( by accident of course) I really didn’t want another cat yet but I had to save the poor thing from my 6 year old nephew. Poor kitty was going through the terrible twos and no one knew how to deal with him. Junior has mellowed quite a bit and now he only tortures his brother Robbie on a regular basis instead of me.
I love my two big fat fur balls. Sometimes they are much nicer than some people you come in contact with. I used to tell people wanna see pictures of my sons and I would show them my cats. What a hoot.
I love my sons very much. Puddy tats are the bomb.
I love my cats.
I lost my baby Twee last August, and honestly, I am still not fully over it. She was the most wonderful kitty I’ve ever known.
I loose a lot of kitties, as I always go to the RSPCA and rescue the oldest, fartiest, most unwanted cats they have. And sadly that means I only have them for a couple of years before I have to say goodbye.
But I love them, and they have a damn good last few years with me.
And cats are better than people anyday. (IMHO) I’m looking forward to becoming a Crazy Cat Lady.
Just the other night, my dad was sitting on the porch, since the weather was pretty warm. He always sits out there in the evenings and Lassie always used to sit out there with him.
Well, when he came back in, it was obvious he had been crying.
Say it’s just an animal, but when you lose them, it HURTS.
I have people in my life, but I still love my cats to pieces. They’re so cute and cuddly and just so WEIRD.
just heard this one…
Dogs treat you like family.
Cats treat you like staff.
How true.
Retro and Ernie were outside cats that adopted me. One night (about 5 years ago) I had the door open so Maggie and Jasper could sit on their kitty condo and look out the screen door. This grey tiger-striped cat showed up and sat on the corner of the porch looking in at them. Of course I wasn’t going to feed him! Feed them and they never go away, right?
So, after about 3 or 4 hours this scrawny old cat was still sitting on the corner of the porch looking in at the healthy, well-fed, shiny-coated inside kitties. He didn’t say anything, he just sat there. So I fed him.
The next morning, he brought his pal by for another meal. When I got home from work, they were waiting for me. Every morning there after, these two were waiting on the porch to be fed. Every afternoon, same deal. They both plumped right up and made themselves at home.
Ernie never trusted me and wouldn’t come near a human. He was just there for the free meals his pal had found, which was fine with me. Retro, on the other hand, would rub up against my legs and let me pet him and hold him while I sat on the front porch. He’d purr and mew and tell me how glad he was he’d found me. Sometimes when the door was open, he’d put his front paws on the screen door and talk to Maggie and Japser, too.
One morning several months later I left to go to work - no Retro, no Ernie. Wierd. On the way to the car I found Retro - he’d been hit by a car but was still alive. I ran inside phoned the vet and raced to the office with his little broken body in the back seat.
There was nothing they could do. They took x-rays and his back was badly broken. I had to make the decision to put him to sleep. I still miss him. But I wouldn’t trade the time he shared with me for anything in the world.
I don’t love my cat. I ADORE her. Every night I tell my cat that I love her. I regularly thank God for bringing such a wonderful little light into my life. She truly keeps the sad days at bay, and gives me something to think about other than myself. Sometimes I think to myself that my feelings are pathetic, but you know what? So fucking what. There’s a lot worse that I could be feeling. And how can something that brings me honest, unadulterated joy be pathetic? She makes me laugh and smile, and humbles me, and she gives me something to look forward to when I come home from a long day.
I can’t imagine anyone truly hating cats. Those people who proclaim their loathing for them can probably say the same thing about another race of people without the slightest compunction. Such “haters” have probably not been around enough cats; that’s the only explanation I can think of . To know the cat, is to love the cat.
originally by Eve:
He’ll grieve and move past it, just like people have always done when loved ones die. People get sick and die, too, but that shouldn’t stop people from loving them.
It’s not healthy when your spouse is all you have, either. Dependency on any one person or thing is unhealthy, but who’s saying different? I’m a single woman who wouldn’t mind being in a relationship with a man. Sometimes I feel very lonely, but the one thing that keeps me from always feeling lonely is my cat. She doesn’t take the place of a man; her company simply makes being alone much more bearable. There’s nothing wrong or unhealthy about that.
Not to mention that having a pet reduces stress-people with pets tend to be happier and healthier.
I know that during a very bad period of depression, since we had just gotten Noel, that helped. Being with my cats really helped.
Fluffy was there when I needed her. When I was little-at night, I’d get scared but if she was on my bed, I felt safe.
They’re family. Love me, love my cats.