The following personal statement will offend 75% of the people who read this piece. However, I beg that you bear with me so I that I have time to justify my statement and then observe the point-of-view of all those who disagree. Thank you in advance.
I hate cats.
Cats smell funny. If they don’t smell like a mixture of old people and dirt from roaming the grounds of a retirement facility, then they smell like whatever tuna food their owners feed them. Some of them smell like straight up piss. That’s a term, right? “Cat piss”? Ever wonder where that came from? It came from your cat and your belongings. Smelling like piss. That came from your cat. It’s also a term for marijuana, but that term also came from the similarities between certain leaves and the piss of a cat.
Don’t ask me how I know that.
Speaking of cat piss, a cat’s toilet is an integral part of the home. They get this giant box that takes up way too much space and is the least esthetically pleasing object, and it is usually placed in the social areas of the home. Hallways, kitchens, living rooms. This is all true, too! I have seen it! Do people like watching their cats take a dump while they’re eating sushi and watching television? Is it fun to smell the treats they’ve left while you’re going to the kitchen for a snack? Also, this form of “potty training” means they have just traipsed around in their own feces and then jumped over onto your leg and curled into a cute little ball to take a nap.
You are now a living litter box.
Cats are curious. One of my favorite SNL sketches of all time is when Will Ferrell, playing Harry Caray, tells the audience that he’s “curious like a cat” and that’s why his friends call him “Whiskers”. He later says he’s a worrier and that that is why his friends call him “Whiskers” but I don’t deem that as relevant. Just rambling. But his first statement holds true. Cats will get into your shit. All of it. Their easy amusement can wreak havoc on your tidy apartment. Coming home to find that your once-folded laundry has gone to hell and a hand basket is not what I call welcoming. So there’s that.
Cats shed. They shed everywhere. They shed all day, errday. Unless they are hairless cats. In that case, they’re just ugly.
My final point (although I could go on for days) is the Sphinx. Yes, I am referencing an Egyptian statue because, frankly, I wonder why ancient people revered cats that much. To me, cats just have a very arrogant attitude. They are very demanding creatures, badgering you for attention all of the time. They look at you with these accusing eyes and make you feel guilty for things you never did. And then they lounge around lazily and take naps when they aren’t being annoying. I mean, I’m sure you would enjoy that lifestyle for yourself as well. But you’re too busy working. To provide for that cat.
It’s like they’re trying to take over the world.
I know what you’re saying. Your cat is precious. Your cat is delightful. Your cat is even named “Precious” or “Delightful”. Well, I was born a dog person. I feel like, being man’s best friend and all, dogs are just the right choice. They listen to you, do things for you, and respond when you speak to them (if you’re awesome). They’re like the perfect American animal, whereas I would see horses as an English thing and cats can fall somewhere in between France and Egypt. I won’t elaborate.
But recently, I have had my fair share of cat experiences. And I think what I am coming to realize is that I have rejected cats for so long because it was imbedded in my mind at a young age that you are either a cat or a dog person. I know plenty of people who have both, but there was always an attachment to one over the other. Plus, I do see the upside to having cats if you live in a city. You don’t have to worry about taking them outside on a walk if you have a long day at work and, let’s just face it, picking up dog excrement on the sidewalk is really gross. But dogs are entertaining. They have palpable emotions and personalities that I deem human-like. I love my dog so much more than I could love a cat. But I think the real reason I have developed such an insatiable hatred for these animals is that they are naturally drawn to me, and I would like not to perpetuate my friends’ hypothesis that I will be the lone cat lady as an adult.
Cats flock to me. Every house I have been to, they’re in my lap immediately. Friends whose cats bite them and hiss at them walk into a room and that same hateful cat is licking my face (gross). When I house sit, the cats lounge on me. Today, I sat down and this 4-month-old kitty climbed onto my shoulder, grabbed both sides of my face with its paws like it was about to give me advice, and started gnawing on my nose. I know I am not unique in treatment—these cats love everyone. But some cats don’t and they still find their way into my lap or onto my head. It’s like I am unintentionally forming a minion of cats everywhere I go. And the sad part is that it makes me see a future as a cat lady. And everything associated with that freaks me out. Never mind that I already knit and drink hot tea. I have always had an old soul and I love doing things for other people, so I guess the whole cat thing falls in line. But I am still against it 100%. It’s a self-realization and a personal choice, so I ask that all cat lovers respect that. And I, in turn, will respect your opinions. To your face, that is.
Do you know what I was thinking today while get my face gnawed on while holding my breath to avoid the stench of Fancy Feast? Well, I’m not sure either. But I did snap a photo of the event and send it to my friends and family.
Maybe I am perpetuating their claims and hypotheses. I don’t care. I got a good laugh out of it, and I’m sure it’s not the last time.