Blogetary (Weblog + Commentary = Blogetary)

I have been, finally, getting around to putting away Christmas. Pulling out the (cat) playing cards, putting away the (cat) ornaments and finding the (cat) note cards and Christmas cards sent to me. And it’s hit me recently that Cat Ladies are not born that way. I mean, most ladies with cats don’t think, “when I grow up I want nothing but cats and cat things.” Unless of course, you’re someone who would play with this action figure:

…..

No, most of us (and I do lump myself into that category even though I only have one cat and not the request nine) came to be that way by happenstance, no matter what you might think.

Consider these factors:

Most cat ladies are intelligent, creative, independent, quirky loners. We don’t have time for pets. We’ve got things to do. Mostly things to think or make or create. We don’t have TIME for critters.

In wanders this four footed feline. Curious, warm, loner, independent, who doesn’t care that your whiskers could rival his (or hers) and knows the value of fresh cream and a good nap.

Well, you think, as long as they promise not to take up too much room.  Or food. And maybe just a trip to the vet once a year or so. Well, that’s okay. They can stay. But you mostly ignore them.

But then, they feel so good when they purr. And they’re so much fun when they want to play. And they understand the need to just stare out the window for hours and think. They remind you when it’s time to eat and get up from the computer. And you can talk to them and they think what you have to say is perfectly reasonable. They don’t brush it aside as so much nonsense.

And so suddenly you have this life that you share with this other being. And when people ask you about your day, you find, since you’re a private loner, that’s it’s easier to talk to people because NOW you have something to share. You don’t have to sidestep questions about your personal life or share what to some seem a pathetic loner’s existence (but to you seems to be a full and complete internal life that’s too intimate to share).  You can now talk about your cat. That is something safe to talk about at dinner that will not have people staring at you as if you were a crazy person.

So, you talk about your cat. You share stories about your cat the way others share stories about their kids or students. It’s a polite, safe way to make conversation about yourself without revealing too much about yourself. And your friends, who were never sure what to get their quirky, sensitive, loner friend, now latch onto something they can comprehend: “Cat.”

So, while you might have other interests, such as gardening, writing, Joan of Arc, travel, movies, or even knitting leggings, you suddenly find that every birthday and holiday you end up with more and more cat paraphernalia: Cat ornaments, cat cards, cat figurines, cat pictures. Every other email you get is someone sending you, “aren’t these too cute” pictures of kittens and puppies. And anytime anyone hears of a cat or kitten who needs a home, you’re the first on their contact list.

And while you still have only one cat (or maybe by now you’ve got a collection since you’ve become the easy mark on everyone’s cat adoption list), you have now become the “cat lady” where before you were simply the “eccentric”.

And you didn’t get there on your own. And as you look around, surrounded by all the cat gifts your friends and family gave you, you realize you were helped there by all your friends and family.

You were not born that way, you were made.