If you’ll forgive me for being one of those obnoxious pet owners who talks about her pet as though she’s a dear (human) friend… let me list for you the many traits Emma and I share.
We have ridiculous names that we expect to be called by. In my case, I expect my editors to use my full name whenever I’m published–not my first and last, not my first, middle initial and last, but the whole shebang. (A certain magazine that shall go unnamed recently mis-listed me in their masthead. I was slightly annoyed.) In my cat’s case… that’ll be Princess Emerald Louise , thankyouverymuch.
Speaking of–both Emma and I are quick to respond to “princess.” That’s one of the things I love about her. Some people like dogs because they’re at your beck and call, but I love Emma because she’s only around when it’s convenient for her. Sure, that means she sometimes wakes me in the middle of the night because she’s bored, or I roll over to find her in my bed in the morning–but I’m okay with that. It’s better than her following me around and getting in my business 24/7.
We both love sleeping under the Christmas tree. That was one of my favorite things to do as a child. I would crawl under the tree before bed, while its lights were still glowing, and gaze up at the ornaments above. Heck, I’d still do it if my grandmother wouldn’t make fun of me. (She would, and mercilessly. But I’m a 23 year old woman. I think she’d be justified.) But with today’s unveiling of the tree, Emma quickly relocated from my quarters to the quilted throw that’s serving as a tree skirt. Traitor.
We both have great fashion sense. Just look at her beautiful coat… and I’m getting something of a reputation myself, though I wouldn’t have it if you peered in my closet. 😉
If I picked up a product at the dermatologist, I’d be tempted to use it on my cat. Emma and I both have dry skin–though fortunately mine doesn’t leave flakes in my fur.
Likewise, princess kitten and I both have sensitive skin. I’m prone to break outs, and I suppose you could argue she is, as well. I had to buy new food and water bowls for her today because she’s apparently allergic to the plain plastic number she’s been using for years. (Who knew? But they give her blackheads.) I have to admit, though… the red ceramic dishes I bought instead are way cuter. Again–the princess complex rears its ugly head. 😉
The final, and perhaps most interesting, trait Emma and I have in common is this: we’re both skittish around men. Today, the nurse at the animal hospital sent in a female doctor because I warned her that Emma doesn’t like men. (She runs and hides virtually every time one walks in the house.) But like me, Emma can warm up to a man and trust him not to hurt her. I think I’ve done that with more guys than she–I’ve been talking to my “safe guys” quite a bit more lately, and I choose them exactly because they are safe. (Definition: a guy who knows where he stands with me and I know where I stand with him. I don’t have many of them, but I’ll talk off the ears of those I do know.)
So my ramblings about my cat may evidence my neuroses, but don’t worry… there’s more to come in the days that follow. I’m still working about some thoughts about men in my mind. (I say that as though it’s news. When am I not pondering these mysteries?)