Lucky Cat

My friend asked me a question about my cat yesterday, that made me think about him a bit more than usual. The thought is quite basal, my cat is alive. He is quite fortunate to be alive. He once traveled 3 miles through the woods from my in-law's house while we were in Europe for 2 weeks. We arrived home thinking he was lost, but he was just starving at home, with no one to feed him. You can read about that super awesome story here.  He was shredded by some dogs, and we super-glued him back together (really, it worked! no vet bills).

X-ray, one of the biggest cats ever.

I got this cat because I hate mice, more than I dislike cats. I don't really like cats, but I HATE mice and rats. I keep a clean house, but was pestered by rodents until 2006 when we got a cat. The mice are gone, and we don't have to put poison or traps out to steer clear of Hantavirus.

The question was, "It seems you just feed your cat, so it doesn't die?"

Which made me check myself.  It didn't take me long to answer yes.  Sadly, yes.  My cat is rather soul-less.  He's a slave to his belly and his own satisfaction (typical cat).  I don't hate him, but didn't even think that I'm solely maintaining a live creature so that he wont die.  I am.  I feed him what he doesn't get from the rodents.  He whines all day so that I might feed him more, he relieves himself in the warm, dry garage, he poops in the flower beds,  and he slithers into our house and into the inner-workings of our couch to hide.

I should move away from maintaining our 'pet', and enjoy him.  I should accept him for his 'cat-ness'.  His characteristics are attributes that turn me off in others, and I HATE in myself: selfishness, gluttony, laziness, dirtiness, hairy-ness, sneakiness, dependence.... It's no wonder I don't like our cat, because I see in him the things I don't like about myself, and I'm allergic to it.