Tag Archive | cat

The Best of Friends


They’re an odd couple, almost human-like, always a step away from killing each other all while harboring deep love and respect. To all the people going “ewww, is she talking about animal husbandry or some such pineapples?”, no, no I am not. I’m talking about a friendship so strong that nothing could break it.  Not even an butcher’s knife, pr even an ax. Well, maybe an ax could… Why am I talking about axes? I flummox myself sometimes. All the time.

I got my cat for my 6th birthday and named her Lucy because at the time I was obsessed with the Narnia books, so please don’t judge me. A tiny little kitten, she hid under the bathtub for 3 days. The innocent little girl that I was was heartbroken that she wouldn’t let me touch her (again, that sounds wrong), so I slipped her bowl of food to her hiding place each day, wishing she’d come out. Of course she eventually did and I was able to pet her, all while keeping my guard up for fear that she would gobble me up like a dinosaur. At the tender age of 6, I didn’t know much about cats, and I wouldn’t hold her until I was 8. Soon enough she discovered that 1) the outside world was really quite exciting and 2) she could eat A LOT of mice, throw them up in the house and still get fed. Heaven right? She’s my best animal friend, nuzzling up to me when she senses I’m feeling down, looking at me like a disapproving grandma when I do something wrong. She’s incredibly (and weirdly) social, so we basically had a dog already. Her peace lasted 3 years.

At that point, he arrived.

Cooperstown Hope, named thus because we hoped he would be a great baseball player/dog. Since it’s a fancy and stuck up name we call him Cooper for short. Or Bum. Whichever. Cooper was a tiny little golden ball of fluff who peed all over the house and got all of our attention: we ooh-ed and aah-ed over his cute puppy dog eyes and laughed at his clumsiness. While the cat had never liked her treats, he ate everything [yes, even whatever you’re imagining]. We loved him from the start and fawned over him like a bunch of girls drooling over a hot guy. Lucy hated him. This treatment was unfair, after all she’d has us all to herself for 3 whole years, and this “thing” came and tore that all away from her in a day. What a scam.

Cooper has always loved to play, so when he was little he would always try to get Lucy to tussle with him; but because she was the queen of the house and despised anything inferior to her (–> him) she rejected his advances scornfully. It’s only now, 6 years later, that she’s started to accept him as an equal. Unfortunately for her Cooper caught onto her scheme early on and now that she wants him, he pointedly ignores her. It’s like watching a reaaally long soap opera. Nonetheless they have their moments when they play together and look exceedingly happy. Other times, like the one in the picture, they just mutually enjoy each others company, lazing around, doing nothing in particular (hey, kind of like me! :))

Deep down they are the best of friends: if something is bothering Cooper, Lucy will go up to him and push his paw around with her nose reassuringly, and should any animal other than him come onto to his kitty, Cooper will make it very clear that she is his and only his.

I love them both with all my heart, and I hope that they always have the same hilariously weird relationship as they do today.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

The Doctor Dolittle Syndrome

I talk to animals. Like, I have conversations with them. Is that weird? Probably, but I can’t help it. I have the Doctor Dolittle Syndrome. Ever since I saw that movie when I was a little girl (the musical from 1967 mind you) I became convinced that much like Rex Harrison I had godly talents and could converse freely with any sheep that strolled by. After a few uninspiring attempts to talk to my neighbor’s horse, I realized that I couldn’t talk to just any animal. The animals that I felt comfortable rambling to about the facts of life (please, no comment, I already know that I’m crazy) were the ones that were close to me, that I knew.

My cat  is unusually social. She is, to me, quite a contradiction in in of herself: she’s independent and throws mice against our door like the murderer that she is and yet she always seems to be hanging around when people are outside (and not threatening to run her over with a tractor). Because she is extremely social, she is often my target when it comes to late night musings. Yes, I know, I talk to my cat. I’m the quintessential loser, but I love her anyway 🙂 With her, there is no need to use a ‘special’ voice, I can just talk normally. And she answers with emphatic MEOWS and more conservative meows, depending on her opinion on the subject. Then again, she may be telling me to f*ck off. I don’t know, I don’t speak cat (Doctor Dolittle fail).

When it comes to Cooper, my dog, I feel obliged to use my baby voice. There is something about his wide brown eyes and floppy ears that kicks my motherly instinct into action (even though I’m only 15. Geez). And yet I don’t have any trouble insulting him… I think my motherly instinct is quite twisted. Cooper, while being a very smart dog, is also very stupid in some aspects of his everyday life. Contrary to his best friend the cat, he doesn’t listen to all the words I say with equal attention. Noooo, he’s only interested in the words having to do with food and boots. That may be why I swear at him a lot.


How could you not want to discuss philosophy with a dog so expertly and carefully eating his bone?

Anyway, I guess I’ll just end up being that crazy old lady who talks to her pets too much and makes everyone feel a little sad for her. But you know what? I’m happy to be the victim of the Doctor Dolittle Syndrome for a couple more years. After that, I might start scaring the boys off. And that, this teenager does not want to do. But I will never abandon my pets completely. Ever. Um… Until they die. *cries a little*

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.