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| Because any man who has a cat is a winner. http://dailycaller.com/2010/11/19/the-sweet-sixteen-of-awkward-family-pet-photos-slideshow/pet002019403/ |
I have always been wary of men who
consider themselves “cat people.” They are a special breed of man, akin to the
“renaissance man” or metrosexual in the sense that they do not rely on
masculine stereotypes to build their confidence. They are in tune to more than
just beer, basketball, and babes. They have multi-dimensional interests, and
are emotionally mature and open-minded. However, cat-loving men are still
distinct from their evolutionarily progressive male counterparts. You see, as
much as they might be enigmatic and interesting, cat-loving men are just that:
men who love cats.
So what’s my “beef” with cats and
ultimately, the men who love them? Well, cats are confusing creatures –the
Rubik’s Cube of pets. Unlike with dogs, you have to earn a cat’s affection.
Cats never automatically like you. With their judgmental eyes and quiet
footsteps, they seem as though they’re plotting world domination. You can be
sure that they’re sizing you up, deciding whether to kill you or allow you to
co-exist with them. And that’s the thing – they
decide what your relationship is going to be like with them, not the other way
around. Ultimately, you can never really know if they actually like you or if
they’re just trying to get you to feed them.
I’m suspicious of cats, and as a
result, suspicious of their owners. If cats are judgmental, tyrannical, and
potentially looking to take over the world, then what does that suggest about
the owners who love them? These feline attributions don’t so much as transfer
onto their owners as they do suggest that their owners are willing to be
submissive, begging for their cats’ love and affection so as not to be taken
out upon their cats’ world domination.
Who could love such a creature – and more importantly – could I love
someone who loved a cat? I had never really come face-to-face with a single,
male cat owner until I went to my boyfriend’s apartment, a few weeks after our
first date.
I hadn’t known he had a cat. It
wasn’t until I went to my boyfriend’s apartment for the first time and saw the
litter box that I realized I might have to re-consider the whole relationship.
My boyfriend introduced his cat to me: a girl cat, named Gary. He cooed and
talked to Gary in a baby voice, telling me how “beautiful” she was, petting her
and avoiding her attempts to scratch him.
Despite all of this, I really
liked this guy. After all, he was a man of the 21st century:
charming, smart, a great cook, capable of doing his own laundry, and sarcastic.
I realized if I wanted to have the relationship, I was going to have to come to
terms with the cat.
As I spent more time with my
boyfriend, and subsequently, his cat, I realized: cats aren’t so bad. I learned
more about Gary and her personality, and became more in tune to the kind of cat
that she was. Sure, I was still nervous from time-to-time that Gary would claw
my eyes out in my sleep, but when she’d cuddle up next to me on the couch, I
felt an immense sense of satisfaction. Here was this creature, known to be
judgmental and finicky, choosing to return my affection. I realized that my
expectation of immediate, unconditional love devalued that same love. Earning
Gary’s affection taught me something: having to put work into a relationship
and upholding a set of standards isn’t a bad thing. Instead, having a set of
standards meant that I could have a better and more fulfilling relationship.
And yes – a cat helped me realize that. I earned the love and trust of my
boyfriend’s cat, and at the same time, the love and trust of my boyfriend.
Over a year later, I still might
be wary of cats, but I am proud to be dating a cat person. Recently though, at
the doctor’s office, I sat in the examination room waiting for an explanation
as to why I haven’t gotten over my cold.
“It’s
your boyfriend’s cat,” she said.
Go figure.
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