One of our cats – we have four (YABBA DABBA DOOO) – doesn’t ask for much. There’s a lot to be said for that. Not just when you’re talking about pets, but people too, and indeed, even life.
My wife Debbie scoffed at me a couple of weeks back when I complained that Smudge (our cat referenced above) had taken the seat in front of my desktop computer. It is a nice cushioned business chair that affords comfort and support.
Deb told me to toss Smudge off. I said I couldn’t because “he doesn’t ask for much,” in comparison to our other animals (two dogs as well) who all seem to have special needs. I felt bad forcing Smudge from one of his happy spots, so instead I gently moved his chair aside so he could remain king, and I slid a kitchen chair up to my desk to begin writing for the day.
The kitchen chair digs into my legs and has a wood back. Hence, as you can imagine it is very uncomfortable. In fact, sitting that way for even an hour creates cramps and soreness in different parts of the body. This led to my remark on Smudge – by putting me into this other chair, I was inconvenienced and my body did not appreciate it.
But my discomfort was not enough to force Smudge off his throne. When I said to Deb that Smudge doesn’t ask for much, I hadn’t thought of the line beforehand. It just came out. But it also made me think, and chuckle afterwards, and I even remarked to Deb after saying it how it defines that cat, and also puts in context our other animals, all who demand things in different ways.
Yeah, we are human and we can boss the animals around, but most people who have pets cater to them. We want them to be happy, like our kids. So we go the extra mile and pamper them in weird ways.
I feed dog food to one of our cats every morning, for example. She does not have a sterling personality, and in fact loves to hiss at me for the most part, but boy when I get out that chunky canned dog food, she rubs her body up against me and purrs away. What a manipulator.
One of our dogs – Thor – receives the ice cream container after I am done cleaning it out. He picks it up in his jaws like he’s just run down a rabbit and has captured the prey, and prances into the living room where he gradually munches up the box to deposit tiny pieces all over the carpet for me to clean up later in the evening.
We have two cats who essentially don’t leave our upstairs bedroom because they are paranoid. But that doesn’t stop one of them from loudly and mournfully MEOWING to get my wife to bow to her demands, whatever the heck they are. I just tell the cat to shut up, and think how fortunate we are to have Smudge.
Smudge just wants to be left alone. He likes to go out at night and come in each morning. He’ll let you pet him then. He wants to drink out of the kitchen or bathtub faucet, whichever is convenient at the time.
He’ll roll on the ground, climb in a box and occasionally take a whack at you with his paw all in good fun. He doesn’t demand anything, he asks no questions, he takes care of himself.
Smudge is coming in more now that winter approaches. The least I can do is give him my chair.
My wife Debbie scoffed at me a couple of weeks back when I complained that Smudge (our cat referenced above) had taken the seat in front of my desktop computer. It is a nice cushioned business chair that affords comfort and support.
Deb told me to toss Smudge off. I said I couldn’t because “he doesn’t ask for much,” in comparison to our other animals (two dogs as well) who all seem to have special needs. I felt bad forcing Smudge from one of his happy spots, so instead I gently moved his chair aside so he could remain king, and I slid a kitchen chair up to my desk to begin writing for the day.
The kitchen chair digs into my legs and has a wood back. Hence, as you can imagine it is very uncomfortable. In fact, sitting that way for even an hour creates cramps and soreness in different parts of the body. This led to my remark on Smudge – by putting me into this other chair, I was inconvenienced and my body did not appreciate it.
But my discomfort was not enough to force Smudge off his throne. When I said to Deb that Smudge doesn’t ask for much, I hadn’t thought of the line beforehand. It just came out. But it also made me think, and chuckle afterwards, and I even remarked to Deb after saying it how it defines that cat, and also puts in context our other animals, all who demand things in different ways.
Yeah, we are human and we can boss the animals around, but most people who have pets cater to them. We want them to be happy, like our kids. So we go the extra mile and pamper them in weird ways.
I feed dog food to one of our cats every morning, for example. She does not have a sterling personality, and in fact loves to hiss at me for the most part, but boy when I get out that chunky canned dog food, she rubs her body up against me and purrs away. What a manipulator.
One of our dogs – Thor – receives the ice cream container after I am done cleaning it out. He picks it up in his jaws like he’s just run down a rabbit and has captured the prey, and prances into the living room where he gradually munches up the box to deposit tiny pieces all over the carpet for me to clean up later in the evening.
We have two cats who essentially don’t leave our upstairs bedroom because they are paranoid. But that doesn’t stop one of them from loudly and mournfully MEOWING to get my wife to bow to her demands, whatever the heck they are. I just tell the cat to shut up, and think how fortunate we are to have Smudge.
Smudge just wants to be left alone. He likes to go out at night and come in each morning. He’ll let you pet him then. He wants to drink out of the kitchen or bathtub faucet, whichever is convenient at the time.
He’ll roll on the ground, climb in a box and occasionally take a whack at you with his paw all in good fun. He doesn’t demand anything, he asks no questions, he takes care of himself.
Smudge is coming in more now that winter approaches. The least I can do is give him my chair.
