I have a small confession to make – When I arrive at my boyfriend’s house, my main priority is not a kiss and a cuddle with him. My main priority is his ginger cat, Greg. I will sit and question the household about Greg’s day. How is he coping with the heat? How much sleep has he had? And – most importantly – is he around for a cuddle? My boyfriend will sit in the wings, patiently waiting his turn.
I’ve not always been so generous with my feelings for cats. In fact, I used to hate them. They would stroll into our garden, stare at me, hiss and declare their hatred of me. Terrified, I would flee in hysterics. Convinced I was a dog in a former life, I accepted cats and I would never live happily together in this world. But this was before an old ginger cat called Sandy made an appearance in my home. Senile, narcissistic and solely focused around food, I realised that cats were actually incredibly comical. And that was the start of my love affair.
This love affair has slowly spiralled (some say into madness – I beg to differ.) I reckon I’ve come to the conclusion that cats and I understand each other very well: we both appreciate the wonders of comfort, the freedom of just doing what we fancy, when we fancy, and welcome cuddles. Cats truly are inspirational creatures. You could be having a bad day at work with someone shouting in your face and you could think “You know what? I have a cat at home that’s infinitely nicer than you, and softer to stroke.” They also offer a sympathetic ear to any of your problems (read: they don’t judge you as they don’t understand a word you say).
So I’m unashamedly a crazy cat lady in the making. I’ve done a 180 degree turn. Cats make me incredibly happy, and I’m only slightly hesitant to admit they are often a lot less hassle than humans!
Let’s pass it on over to you – why do cats have a special place in your heart?
Mull it over whilst gazing into the eyes of Greg -