Thursday, April 7, 2011

Converse Cat

I talk to my cat. Before you jump to any conclusions about the state of my sanity let me clear up any uncertainty on this point: the cat talks back. What he is saying may at times be a mystery, but more often than not our communication skills are adept.

For example, after a sneeze I will nearly always be greeted with a small clicking as the cat either says to me: "Bless you" or perhaps "There you go making that noise and waking me up from my nap again."

In the mornings I can be sure once my alarm is shut off a small black and white head will pop up along the side of the bed. Perhaps he'll get into bed with me or perhaps he'll wait until I get up, but the second I am on my feet there is a merciless whining that declares: "I want food and I may or may not want cuddling depending on how much food you put in my bowl. NOW."

While cleaning the room I will hear a small scamper and in bursts the cat with a soft rolling "brr," informing me: "I want to play" or perhaps in his mind: "I will destroy you."

Things get hairy when a loud yowl escapes him, and then I know to be on the lookout for the signs of a cat about to mark his territory. I will allow us this miscommunication on the basis of gender: I know nothing of these masculine urges to stake claim by administering uncanny amounts of cologne or refusing to use deodorant. Ultimately, spreading one's scent  (good or bad) all over my things. Here, our communication skills disintegrate.

Gender issues aside, I greatly value our conversations. We may be at an impasse as to the actual ownership of the things within my home and how they should smell but he nevertheless provides me the most reliable companion. There is always a familiar face at the door and there is always a companion sharing my space. There is entertainment in the unexpected whims of a feline who believes that ferrot rocher wrappers and soy milk tops MUST be chased under the couch. And there is someone who just wants to be loved. We may define love differently and we may offer it in different ways but we share in our deepest desires: we need each other. He needs someone to throw the ball and open the door to the patio, and I need someone to greet me in the mornings and follow me from room to room . He needs me to open the lid to the peanut butter and I need him to nap beside me while I read. Most importantly, we need each other's conversation. I need to hear him say "welcome home" and he needs to hear me say "dinner time."

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