Bitch on the Blog

September 9, 2015

Smitten

Filed under: Amusement,Animals — bitchontheblog @ 17:59
Tags: , ,

And now, for light relief and something else: Animals.

Not for the first time do I find myself bogged down thinking about man’s relationship with animals.

Why is it that some [animals] are so abhorrent to most humans, and others we keep as pets? For me the main criteria to like anything living (other than plants which have their own ways of enchanting or disgusting you) you have to be able to look them in the eye. Without eye contact, in my view, you are nothing. Which is, presumably, why I find mice (the speed runners of the small), spiders (snakes with eight legs) and any other you can’t nail down so abhorrent.

(Wo)man’s relationship with animals. There have been a few dogs in my life. One I grew up with. A magnificent black Alsation, impeccably behaved. Other dogs by proxy. There is one thing, no two, I don’t like about dogs. They go for your crotch and they are needy. Can’t stand it. Understand the crotch thing though they might be a little bit more subtle about it – particularly if you are a girl of seventeen, but that needy look when they can’t put themselves aside for a minute does test my patience. Main thing I keep reminding myself that animals do what animals do. It’s not their fault that some of them don’t fit my perception of good company.

Cats. I love cats. They are not needy. They do their own thing and when they come and talk to you they do so not because they want you to throw a stick to retrieve but because they want to talk to you.

Having said that, one of our cats, Bouncer, was probably the most stupid animal ever (in a sort of intelligent way) you may wish to encounter. Bouncer was born the youngest of our cat Fleury’s one and only litter. Born with his caul intact. A parcel. Which denotes luck. Well, he was lucky in as much as the Angel and I decided to keep him and give his two sisters away. Fleury, his mother, didn’t have that much patience with him – which led to some words between her and me, but that’s private. Anyway, where Fleury was eloquent but never a lap cat Bouncer was huge. I blame his father. So, yes there I was some years ago: Two arms broken and in plaster cast, one leg down, pinned to the sofa, on my back, watching Bette Davis’ movies on a loop when Bouncer descended on me. All eight and a half kilos of him on my chest and purring. That cat’s middle name was either affection or downright selfishness.

Miss both of them, and the one before who used to run after my pencil as I covered the page.

U

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5 Comments »

  1. What a let down! I thought that you would write about your betrothed and how your totally smitten with him.

    Comment by rummuser — September 10, 2015 @ 06:59 | Reply

    • You are right, Ramana. That’s how my mind works: One moment I was thinking of you, the next it rains cats and dogs.

      Will rectify my omission asap. First I’ll need to gather my trousseau lest Ranjan and Manjiree won’t approve of me.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 10, 2015 @ 09:36 | Reply

  2. Mankind’s relarionship with other animals and plants and fungi and the Earth in general is of constant concern to me. In many ways more important than our (large scale) relationships with one another, which, thinking of Malthus, could be a good thing in the long run.

    Back to animals and articularly felines……Felis silvestris catus or simply Felis catus.Apparently the name Felis doesn’t have the same root a Felix as one might suspect. I diverge, as is my wont.

    I absolutely believe that cats can be needy, or are amazing thespians. They can fix you witht heir eyes, pleading for whatever it is they desire, food, milk, a scratch behind the ears or just a lp to curl up on. Their concomitent independence is due to man’s innability to breed out of their genetic makeup their instinct and ability to hunt and kill prey. This, they know, is to their advantage.

    Yes I like cats and admire them greatly. This only on the proviso that they are short haired.

    Comment by magpie11 — September 10, 2015 @ 13:00 | Reply

    • Excellent points, Magpie. The only link between felis and felix (meaning happy/lucky) that cats have nine lives or – in the case of Fleury – eighteen and not counting. That cat had a death wish. Which – eventually – was fulfilled. Though even when she was hit by some car she died elegantly. Not squashed. Heart failure. I can’t tell you how many times I had shouted at her (inwardly) when she ran out onto our road because she knew the sound of my Citroen approaching home, greeting me. Dear dear dear dear …

      “Short haired”, David. Absolutely. And preferably Tabbies. Though once knew a cat in the neighbourhood – totally white with only his/her tail dipped in black ink. One can’t but marvel at nature’s lack of grace.

      The most neurotic cat, let’s rephrase that, the ONLY neurotic cat I ever met was a neighbour’s in an appartment block in Duesseldorf. My neighbour and friend – a couple of years older, gorgeous, and as gays often are a hairdresser – had a Siamese. Apparently Siamese cats make good Indoor cats. Maybe. Didn’t stop that cat from being mental. To me cat and caged are mutually exclusive concepts.

      I don’t agree with you that cats plead. Yes, they may look at you with expectation or pin you down and pur, walk across your broadsheet paper you are trying to read and plonking themselves right on top of it demanding attention – true. On the other hand – if you give them short shrift they will walk off with their dignity fully intact. Then they return, two hours later – with a gift. Like, say, a half dead mouse. Or frog. Or, in Bouncer’s case, with a wilted butterfly. Put it at your feet. Look at you expectantly. It is very hard to be grateful for unwanted gifts even if proffered through love and as a peace offering.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — September 10, 2015 @ 14:20 | Reply

      • Dieing elegantly… I like that idea. My most elegant, and favourite, cat was my Russian Blue. Long and sleek. Beautiful.
        Currently eldest’s cat, who abides with us as his wife is sure that said feline does not like her, is absolutely neurotic.Product of a feral/ domestic coupling. Youngest’s cat has learned this neurosis and is almost as bad.
        Interestingly neither has ever brought a gift……..

        Comment by magpie11 — September 10, 2015 @ 14:37 | Reply


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