Cats

I am a cat person.  I enjoy dogs, but when I am pressed, I lean to cat. This is handy, as I have five.  There were never supposed to be five.  Once there was one, but he got lonely, so there were two, so they could hate each other and have something to do.  Gulliver I had from a kitten, and I adopted Mia when she was two.  Or three.  Nobody's sure. Then Blair showed up at the front door, and Dan wanted a kitten, so there were three.  Then Gulliver died very suddenly, and I was pregnant and heartsick and not thinking straight, and we got two more kittens, Bingley and Walter.  Then we started saying, "No more cats." Then last spring a cat came in the back door and started eating, and Dan named him Sidney at we had five. I like cats.  Cats have an arrogance I can get behind.  Dogs are great, and I love rubbing bellies, but they need me too much.  We had one briefly last year and it was a disaster.  She terrorized the cats, she peed on the floor every time I came home, and she followed me around, looking for orders.  It unnerved me like hell.  Cats never need me.  Well, there is the food thing, but that's more a servant issue on my part.  They do not feel my feeding them is a favor.  It is my duty, and I should be happy for it. I love how they think this whole house is theirs.  I love how when I remove them from the table they are not abashed but affronted.  I love how they follow me around expectantly, saying without words, "You should be sitting now and offering me lap." Every night around 9 Mia starts shadowing me, because she believes it's time for me to be in bed.  She starts by hanging at the bathroom door, because when I brush my teeth she gets to hop on the counter and drink a glass of water with me.  After teeth, I should go to bed, and if I do something else she will follow me and look Expectant.  Sometimes she gives up, but sometimes she Insists and I end up going to bed for reasons I'm never sure why. Then there is Bingley.  If I use the toilet upstairs, he comes in and meows to be let behind the curtain into the tub.  I've no idea what business he has in there, but clearly it's important stuff.  And when I go into a room he whips onto his back and meows, to say, "Rub my belly." In a few minutes here, I will be going to bed.  I have to get comfy fast, because the cats will soon arrive and start penning me in, lining up around my legs.  The other night all five were there for a minute, and I have to say, that was a bit much even for me.  When Gulliver was alive he slept by my head every night.  When he died I cried every night, but Mia would always come and tuck me in, and she has ever since. Usually I get kisses.  Now Sidney sleeps on one side of my legs and Blair on the other.  And Walter sleeps in the small of my back. Yeah, it's all a bit weird.  And Blair has depression issues, so we have Comfort Zones and he gets an antidepressant and a special beanbag in the living room.  But I love cats.  I think it's because they have no right to be that arrogant, and there's no reason to do what they say, and yet I do, every day.  I think they win because they are so sure they will.