Even Cats Can Grow Up
All right, guys, I’m gonna talk about my cats again.
I know, I know. Right? But look at it from my blogging perspective. Cat posts are a win-win for me. Either:
A) You own cats as well, and reading about my cats makes you think about your cats, which makes you happy, or
B) You don’t own cats, but like them, and can at least enjoy the vicarious thrill of hearing about mine, or
C) You think everyone on the Internet that won’t shut up about their cats is an idiot, and are currently enjoying the thrill of feeling superior to me, which you probably are, but for reasons that have less to do with cats and more to do with our relative likelihoods of waking up covered in our own vomit.
So any way you slice it I’m providing a nice warm fuzzy feeling in your day when I talk about cats, making it bread-and-butter for MA101.
(My most popular post ever, in case there was any question.)
So anyway, let me tell you about Miss Mina for a second here.
Miss Mina is the uberkitty. She weighs something upward of fifteen pounds, becomes invisible in shadows, and is so clever I can’t play most traditional cat games with her because she thinks they’re pointless (which they are).
She’s also terrified of everything.
So I’ve gotten used to having a ghostly kitty around the house, making occasional appearances when she thinks no one is listening and then diving back under my bed the second anyone moves.
Only that’s changing, now.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe, three months after the move, she’s finally accepted that this is her house and she should take charge of it. Maybe having roommates is socializing her more. Maybe she’s just happy that she can sleep on someone at night (we kept the bedroom door shut at the old place, but I’ve started leaving it open here).
But whatever it is, she’s suddenly sociable. Cautiously sociable, but sociable. Awkwardly sociable, even, on occasion, since I do occasionally have lady visitors in my humble bachelorhood, and there are moments in everyone’s life that are not enhanced by the presence of a friendly, fifteen-pound cat who pokes you with her claws when you aren’t paying enough attention to her.
On paper it doesn’t sound that exciting, but seriously — this is a massive shift in four years of established personality. I’m genuinely startled when Miss Mina strolls into a room with multiple people in it and picks a lap to sit on.
If change is possible for her, think what we can do for ourselves!
Or it could just be her possessive streak getting more aggressive. With cats, you never know.