7 things #2: My cat
Apr. 18th, 2012 01:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pastwatcherMy cat is named Flux. She was born about November 2008 we think. I like her. I even have a filter for occasional posts about her (by the way, if you want to opt in, either comment on any Dreamwidth entry so I'll get an email notification, or comment on my most recent LJ entry). But I don't really love her.
I got this beautiful black cat from ophblekuwufu's mother Eve, because Eve took the cat in at age ~18 months, named her Flux, discovered she terrorized their first cat Quantum, and began trying to give her away. It may not be true that "I would do anything for Eve", but evidence suggests that I always do anything she asks of me. (She sometimes acts like a second mother to me.)
Flux has the remarkable property that she allows one to pick her up, for a few seconds or for long minutes depending on her mood. And if she's not sleepy she's usually interested in playing, if the humans are. In fact, unfortunately she thrives on human attention and is often quite vocal in demanding it. At least she can feed herself--that is, if you fill her bowl, she'll graze on it for a couple of days before you need to refill.
Also, she doesn't scratch (unless she's stretching, so her claws dig in by accident).
I wanted to have Flux because two of my roommates wanted a cat, and we got a third one who was fine having a cat; I really didn't want a kitten or a cat I wouldn't like, but I liked this one. One roommate has since moved out and just comes back to visit and play with Flux sometimes, but khab_rmb is very cute with her.
It is nice when I pick the cat up, especially if she purrs. I really, really like hugging people: the understanding that friendship is nice, the ability to show that I care through this means, the sense of being appreciated. And hugging warm fuzzy animals is a nice little shadow of this. It does feel physically a little like holding a baby, but emotionally it's really not. (Actually khab_rmb likes holding Flux too but doesn't like small children.) I delight in how children grow, their curiosity and creativity and intelligence; I delight in it when my cat seems smart, but am often disappointed that she is not.
We let her outside, only a little bit, as she doesn't run far; she's afraid of not being let back in, I think. We're afraid of her getting more parasites.
But often I don't want to deal with the cat. I don't want to change her litter, and I don't want her to walk across my laptop, and I don't want her to follow me around and nip at me because she wants to play, or to be dissatisfied and moody because her humans haven't been around enough. I really really don't want to deal with it when she gets sick--I hope she never gets sick. I know I can and /will/ deal with it, and we have a vet within 10 minutes' walk and an emergency vet even closer, but it's gross and I don't feel the kind of affection that would make up for that. When humans I care about (e.g. my sister) get sick or have other gross problems, my affection massively helps me deal with it. I feel somewhat guilty about not wanting to care for my cat that well, though I do well enough.
I also gather that I'm supposed to feel some sort of attachment to this creature. There is evidence that I actually do: first of all, I've always liked cats reasonably well, and I like dogs less now that I'm allergic. But whenever I see another cat now, I inevitably compare them to Flux, and so far they fall short. They are rarely prettier than she is, they are never as huggable as she is, they don't act like her. But people talk about the attachment that "you won't understand until you have to give up a pet." No. I don't feel that. I could happily give her up to anyone who really wanted her, though I'm not doing so unless khab_rmb doesn't want her anymore. She is not, for me, a replacement for a child. I know I'm supposed to be like that (note that blogger is adorable but her blog is a ridiculous mixture of stereotyping-jokes and serious insights) and all, but I don't feel that way.
A link to the shirt I ordered because Flux does some of these things when I'm trying to work.
I got this beautiful black cat from ophblekuwufu's mother Eve, because Eve took the cat in at age ~18 months, named her Flux, discovered she terrorized their first cat Quantum, and began trying to give her away. It may not be true that "I would do anything for Eve", but evidence suggests that I always do anything she asks of me. (She sometimes acts like a second mother to me.)
Flux has the remarkable property that she allows one to pick her up, for a few seconds or for long minutes depending on her mood. And if she's not sleepy she's usually interested in playing, if the humans are. In fact, unfortunately she thrives on human attention and is often quite vocal in demanding it. At least she can feed herself--that is, if you fill her bowl, she'll graze on it for a couple of days before you need to refill.
Also, she doesn't scratch (unless she's stretching, so her claws dig in by accident).
I wanted to have Flux because two of my roommates wanted a cat, and we got a third one who was fine having a cat; I really didn't want a kitten or a cat I wouldn't like, but I liked this one. One roommate has since moved out and just comes back to visit and play with Flux sometimes, but khab_rmb is very cute with her.
It is nice when I pick the cat up, especially if she purrs. I really, really like hugging people: the understanding that friendship is nice, the ability to show that I care through this means, the sense of being appreciated. And hugging warm fuzzy animals is a nice little shadow of this. It does feel physically a little like holding a baby, but emotionally it's really not. (Actually khab_rmb likes holding Flux too but doesn't like small children.) I delight in how children grow, their curiosity and creativity and intelligence; I delight in it when my cat seems smart, but am often disappointed that she is not.
We let her outside, only a little bit, as she doesn't run far; she's afraid of not being let back in, I think. We're afraid of her getting more parasites.
But often I don't want to deal with the cat. I don't want to change her litter, and I don't want her to walk across my laptop, and I don't want her to follow me around and nip at me because she wants to play, or to be dissatisfied and moody because her humans haven't been around enough. I really really don't want to deal with it when she gets sick--I hope she never gets sick. I know I can and /will/ deal with it, and we have a vet within 10 minutes' walk and an emergency vet even closer, but it's gross and I don't feel the kind of affection that would make up for that. When humans I care about (e.g. my sister) get sick or have other gross problems, my affection massively helps me deal with it. I feel somewhat guilty about not wanting to care for my cat that well, though I do well enough.
I also gather that I'm supposed to feel some sort of attachment to this creature. There is evidence that I actually do: first of all, I've always liked cats reasonably well, and I like dogs less now that I'm allergic. But whenever I see another cat now, I inevitably compare them to Flux, and so far they fall short. They are rarely prettier than she is, they are never as huggable as she is, they don't act like her. But people talk about the attachment that "you won't understand until you have to give up a pet." No. I don't feel that. I could happily give her up to anyone who really wanted her, though I'm not doing so unless khab_rmb doesn't want her anymore. She is not, for me, a replacement for a child. I know I'm supposed to be like that (note that blogger is adorable but her blog is a ridiculous mixture of stereotyping-jokes and serious insights) and all, but I don't feel that way.
A link to the shirt I ordered because Flux does some of these things when I'm trying to work.
