When my dad moved in with us he came with one absolute: his cat. Now I will admit that I am not technically a cat person. It’s not that I don’t love cute and furry animals. In fact, kittens are just about one of the most adorable of all the furry animals. It’s just that as kittens grow into cats, they lose something for me. I think it’s that casual aloofness they possess. The message that I could or could not live without you. I live my whole life seeking great approval from everyone I encounter despite my own abilities to dig my own grave. My personality needs a dog.
I didn’t come to this realization the easy way. I begged my parents at ten years old to let me have a cat. And after much pleading, they gave me a cat. I had that maniac of a cat until I was well into my twenties and in that time I realized that I am not fully a cat person. I knew he would be my first and last cat.
Now let me make it clear, I pass no judgement on those who would consider themselves cat people. I am merely admitting to my own personal observation about my preferences. I am reminded of this very observation now that I am once again living with a cat. My dad’s cat, who’s name is about the most uncreative or most creative name of all time, Big Cat is just about the most demanding animal I have ever encountered. My dad isn’t much for rules so you can imagine where this is going. Big Cat is very, very smart and he probably learned early that manipulating my dad wasn’t a difficult thing. When dad moved in that cat would stick his claws in my furniture or any bit of skin he could find on any one of us demanding food or to be let out. And I was like, oh hell no.
Big Cat has a regimented eating schedule with one rule from me… stop sticking your claws in my furniture! And yes before you say it, he has a cat tree and scratching post. Beyond that I’m okay with him enjoying his life. Sometimes enjoying his life confounds me because his behavior reflects his attitude of pure disregard for anyone other than himself. A stark contrast to our dog Griffey who cowers when we tell him to stop barking or go inside. He’s a weirdo of a dog. We don’t beat him if you think that’s what I was alluding to but I digress…
My dad’s cat is here to stay and so my camera calls to me to photograph this fuzzball. I hope that you are able to see his don’t give a fuck attitude from these next few images. I love my dad and so somehow I love and care for this cat.