|I am trying hard to look innocent|
By Rocky Williams, Feline Guest Blogger
Let me just say right up front: I am a privileged cat. I know I’m spoiled, and I don’t apologize for that because really, it’s a blessing. The day the Warden took me out of that flea-ridden shack, I didn’t have many hours left. I call that my lucky day – I won the cat lottery, because I came to live with someone who spoils me.
Now, sometimes that word ‘spoil’ is seen as a negative thing, especially when it pertains to children and even at times, dogs and cats. The Warden used to get upset when her mother (not an animal lover!) accused her of spoiling her cats. It stopped bothering her when she realized it was true, but wasn’t something she should be ashamed of. Spoiling your cat is a good thing. I speak from personal experience.
The Warden spoils me by letting me sleep pretty much anywhere I want, even if that’s on her chest and she can barely breathe because I’m such a strapping lad. When I leave my luxurious black fur on her light-colored couch, she doesn’t care. Ditto for whatever she’s wearing. She knows that walking around town covered in cat hair is a badge of honor. She spoils me by stopping whatever she’s doing when I demand my petting time. She believes, and rightly so, that no boring human task could ever be more important than spending quality time with her cat.
The Warden spoils me because when I am naughty, which is often – pretty much every day, all day long – she doesn’t get mad. If I put my paw on her dinner plate hoping to snag some chicken, she just laughs and pushes it away. The day I actually snagged something but unfortunately it was mustard and that promptly got deposited on the couch, she didn’t scold me. Furniture can be cleaned, she says. When I crawl all over her trying to distract her so I can do the grab-and-run with her food, she doesn’t mind that I get cat hair in her mouth or on her plate. It’s edible, right?
One day I swished my big floofy tail in her Caramel Macchiato, and then I flicked the caramel foam all over the carpet. She laughed especially hard that day. The Warden spoils me because she thinks of me as comic relief, a stress buster in kitty form. The Warden knows that being naughty is just my nature, and she loves me in spite of it. Or is that because of it?