I’m new to all this. Over my lifetime (which by the way, began AFTER the Jurassic period) I’ve had just about every kind of pet imaginable. Turtles, goldfish, a couple of aquariums, a few parakeets, several dogs…but NEVER one cat.
When I found the love of my life, Victoria, she came with cats: two of them, Gob & Angel. Gob has the cat thing down. I’ve learned most of what I know about cats from Gob–don’t move out of the way, you’re in MY world not the other way around, etc. Angel is the neurotic form of cat, the classic “Fraidy cat” as it were, who has spent most of her life living in terror, hiding under beds, but recently has been becoming more social.
I thought I had heard and seen everything when it comes to cats. That is, until a co-worker told me her story this morning. Out of consideration and to preserve our friendship, no names will be used.
Her cat is big. Too big. 19-pounds of big. Being that size has caused problems, like having to pee all the time and tending to be even more anxiety-ridden than the normal cat. Adding to the cat’s frustration is the fact it’s being terrorized by a neighborhood bully cat. When the co-worker’s cat sits in his cat tree near the front window, this neighborhood bully cat comes over and right in front of it, scratches at the window as if to attack it. That leaves the overweight cat even MORE stressed out, which means it’s had to go on anti-anxiety medication.
This sounds more like Lindsay Lohan than a pet. I know there are literally millions of cat owners out there that love their pets, but truth be told: I just don’t get it.
Now, a cat playing a piano on YouTube, well, now THAT’S a different story.