I've always had a thing for kittens. My grandparents lived on a farm in the county and there were always cats and kittens around. Until recently though, my motto was pretty much, "kittens are great...until they grow up to be cats." We got a boxer puppy when I was in first grade and had her for almost 15 years! I became a dog person --and still am. Six years ago, my brother got a kitten that completely supported my theory on the feline species --he's a monster. No amount of coddling, petting, ear scratching, or any form of positive attention could ever get this creature to warm up. He has his moments when he'll walk up to us and purr, or rub against us as if to say, "okay, pet me --but just this once," then about ten seconds later, he bites and prances off as if he's pulled off this marvelous joke. Admittedly, I still have a soft spot for the little weirdo, but I thought, "there you go --what kittens grow up to be."
This next part may come across as rude, judgmental and narrow-minded, but bear with me. My feelings have changed. I used to view single cat owners my age and above as old maids about one Alanis or Sarah MacLachlan song away from chasing neighborhood kids from their property with a broom as some kind of 21st century Miss Havisham. (I've always had problems with stereotyping). The thing is, (and not to sound snotty), but I graduated summa cum laude, one of my majors was in theatre, and even though I'm not terrible to look at, I'm super picky about guys. Oh, and I read a lot. So, in my mind, the last thing I needed was a cat to finish painting the picture of what I never wanted to be. Funny how things turn out.
I recently graduated from college and moved back home to look for a job (something I should have started looking for earlier.) Well, two stray tiny black kittens showed up at our neighbor's vacation house (they weren't living there at that point during the year) and took up residence under their lattice porch. I felt just terrible for them and took them food and water, until the wild animals that live around our house started to show up. I know that some people allow raccoons and such to eat with their outdoor cats, but I'm not comfortable with that. So, my heart melted and I took them inside where they've been ever since. They're now what the vet estimates to be seven months old and I couldn't be happier with them. There's a boy and a girl --Gus and Liz. I'm still not rolling over in love with the whole world population of cats, but I adore mine. So, I guess I learned that they have personalities just like people --some are great and some...aren't.
Anyway, these cats are now a permanent staple of my life and I appreciate the commitment that's going to take over the years --whether I'm living in my own imagined/manfactured stereotype or not. So, anyway, even though I know that no one is exactly alike on these boards, nor are the situations, I think I owe many of you apologies for the attitude I've previously held about what "kind" of people my age and single own cats, read real books, are involved in the arts, and don't date every guy in pants. Clearly, that's an unfair stereotype. Sorry again, and I guess I'm a member of the club now!
--Kristin
This next part may come across as rude, judgmental and narrow-minded, but bear with me. My feelings have changed. I used to view single cat owners my age and above as old maids about one Alanis or Sarah MacLachlan song away from chasing neighborhood kids from their property with a broom as some kind of 21st century Miss Havisham. (I've always had problems with stereotyping). The thing is, (and not to sound snotty), but I graduated summa cum laude, one of my majors was in theatre, and even though I'm not terrible to look at, I'm super picky about guys. Oh, and I read a lot. So, in my mind, the last thing I needed was a cat to finish painting the picture of what I never wanted to be. Funny how things turn out.
I recently graduated from college and moved back home to look for a job (something I should have started looking for earlier.) Well, two stray tiny black kittens showed up at our neighbor's vacation house (they weren't living there at that point during the year) and took up residence under their lattice porch. I felt just terrible for them and took them food and water, until the wild animals that live around our house started to show up. I know that some people allow raccoons and such to eat with their outdoor cats, but I'm not comfortable with that. So, my heart melted and I took them inside where they've been ever since. They're now what the vet estimates to be seven months old and I couldn't be happier with them. There's a boy and a girl --Gus and Liz. I'm still not rolling over in love with the whole world population of cats, but I adore mine. So, I guess I learned that they have personalities just like people --some are great and some...aren't.
Anyway, these cats are now a permanent staple of my life and I appreciate the commitment that's going to take over the years --whether I'm living in my own imagined/manfactured stereotype or not. So, anyway, even though I know that no one is exactly alike on these boards, nor are the situations, I think I owe many of you apologies for the attitude I've previously held about what "kind" of people my age and single own cats, read real books, are involved in the arts, and don't date every guy in pants. Clearly, that's an unfair stereotype. Sorry again, and I guess I'm a member of the club now!
--Kristin
