I have a confession to make. Well, let me start by saying this. I’m what one calls a “dog person”. Okay, now for the confession. I’m going to get a cat.
I know, I know…I know.
Dogs were a stable part of my childhood and young adult life. We were able to open up the back door, let the dog romp and play, and then they provided unconditional love and enjoyment around the house. Moving to the city, I stalled on getting a dog of my own for the obvious reasons of money and time. I still live in a city, and I don’t have time to throw away – in fact I’m still working on somehow figuring out how to stretch days out by just a few more hours. But I miss that companionship that visiting the dog park just isn’t filling anymore. I have a home again, I have a routine and I have a steady job and a desperate want to scratch behind a pet’s ears. Unfortunately, that home doesn’t allow dogs.
Let me explain why I’ve come to the decision of getting a cat. The last time I visited my parents’ house, I opened the front door to the familiar sound of clanging pots in the kitchen and the echo of my mom’s voice welcoming me home. What I also encountered was a black small animal with a white crooked line on its face, trying to jump on me. Wait a minute, that’s what our family dog used to do. (Said family dog, Jack, passed away a few years ago.)
Readers, meet Boots. Boots is the cat that my younger sister adopted from an animal shelter the day I arrived for my weekend visit. At first, I did not like Boots. I glowered at him as many a dog person would. Here was an animal that judged the hand that fed it, could ruin carpet with a single spray and could hiss like a snake. Fantastic – welcome to our home you feline.
I now write this column from my favorite chair in my parent’s kitchen with Boots lying atop my legs sprawled out like the adorable dog-like creature that he is. I played fetch with him this morning. And he chases his tail at least five times a day, causing me to laugh at his adorable dog-like tendencies.
I realized two things from getting to know Boots. The first, is that I was wrong about Boots and now happen to adore this darn cat. The second, is that I found a way to have a dog in a city when one has little to no free time: Buy a cat who is possessed by a dog.
So as a stubborn and vocal dog person, I confess to you my fellow readers: I am going to get a cat. And this cat, will be like Boots. Just instead of whining for attention he’s going to meow. I guess I’ll have to get used to that.
Eventually I’ll get a dog when I have more time. And I hope that my cat and dog will get along like the two dog-like creatures that they will be.