So here is the story. It all started a few weeks ago when I was working with my cat, who was doing just that. It sat on the screen of my laptop and refused to move. He watched me intently and asked, "Why are you making those clicking noises with your fingers instead of petting me?". I'll tell you what, I envy these creatures, they are the epitome of confidence and demand attention. Alright, I started petting the cat. Then I tried putting it on my lap and kept clicking the keyboard. But would he give in to me? No.
Because, of course, cats are the greatest overlords and they will slowly bring you down. There's no doubt about it.
Since ancient times, cats have kept their human slaves in check. I mean, we feed them, pet them, and clean up their poop. Constantly. On their terms. Our houses are like parkour courses for them. Our shoes, fancy bidets they pee in.
Cats are also fantastic at making you feel guilty for not doing what they want, exactly when they want it. My cat wakes me up at 5:00 am by lunging at my face like it's a trampoline. I wake up thinking a rodent crawled up my nose and died there. So I frantically start scratching at my face to get it out (the "it" being the imaginary dead rodent).
This sets the cat off and it climbs up and down the bookshelf, knocking over everything that is not glued down. It sounds like an endless parcours around the room where he makes sure everything I own is evenly distributed throughout the apartment ( ie. my toothbrush went from being in the bathroom to being in the closet to being next to my bed - he just can't decide ). It's the bad cat routine.
And if that does not get me out of bed, Ra, the troublemaker, sends his twin brother Ramses. He plays the good cat, purring loudly and making me sneeze with his super soft fur and cute little paws kneading my cheek. I can not resist the cuteness and start petting him. Then he pulls away, one yard at a time, until I find myself digging in the cat bag with my bare hands to feed the starving, judging by the meowing, dying cats.
After feeding time, the game of opening and closing doors begins. Imagine how boring my day would be without these two. Every ten minutes or so one or the other comes back wanting in. After a quick inspection, he starts scratching at the glass door that he's had enough and wants to chase the birds in the backyard. I let him out and start wiping the glass for paw prints for the millionth time.
I barely manage to get anything done before lunch. So you want to have a leisurely lunch, but your cat is hanging over your shoulder, stalking you like a steak drenched in medium rare sauce. But what about me? Where do you think you are going? I am hungry, too! Come back!
All the work, day in and day out. They say cats are independent. Are they really? They are demanding.
And what do I get in return? Brain parasites.
Toxoplasmosis is a disease caused by a parasite called Toxoplasma gondii. It's estimated that more than 60 million people in the U.S. have this infection - most of whom do not know that this parasite makes them tired, cranky and forgetful. The CDC reports that about 22% of Americans between the ages of 12 and 49 carry this parasite, which means that one in five people are walking around with small parasites in their brains.
I am probably one of them, too. And now that I am trying to work while being constantly interrupted by this furball, (by the way, you could say a number of things about our lives - that we breathe, that we blink. But I am here today to say something much more important: cat hair in the mouth is as inevitable as death and taxes.) So, what could my revenge be? How can I annoy him?
And then it occurred to me - I took a picture of him and posted it on Instagram. The result was amazing! People loved the picture, made different comments and laughed at his face. Whenever I catch him doing something stupid, I take a picture of him and post it on Instagram to make people laugh again! That's it, my revenge. Sad, huh? Or I make up irrelevant blog posts about them. Cats: The Wine Connoisseurs: a blog about cats and wine. How your cats can help you decide what to drink from the liquor cabinet. That sounds fascinating, does not it?
Then again, I am a cat owner myself, so I know all the things they do, and I love them for it. They are like little furry ninjas that you can snuggle up to, but they can also scratch your eyeballs out at any time. And then you wake up the next morning and everything is worth it.
The reason is that cats make us feel good. If a cat falls asleep on your lap, you are a very good person; if a cat rubs against you, you are a god-like figure; if a cat meows even when there is no food or water, you are the meaning of life and should be revered as such. Or maybe is just the gondii talking.