Nine Ways in Which My Cats Saved My Life
As the old adage goes, a cat has nine lives. Fortunately for me, I have two cats. So between them that makes 18!!!
As fantastic and adorable as they both are, neither of my two beauties are likely to perform CPR or shelter anyone from a falling piano any time soon, but they’ve at least ‘saved’ the quality of my life many times over.
So tenuous as it may be, I feel that my hokey, maybe even — dare I say it — just a little bit clickbaity title holds water. Just about.
Basically what I’m saying is cats are wonderful. Okay?
So here goes.
Number 1
They need me.
Of course they do. Look at those little faces.
I open doors for them, I fetch their meals for them, provide snacks. Hell, I even dispose of the body when they successfully bring down a bird. Sometimes I even dispose of individual body parts of said avian unfortunates.
It all adds up, and it’s nice to be needed.
Number Two
They love me.
No questions here (I’m looking at you, dog owners). How else could you explain all that purring?
Number Three
Rats, or as I call them ‘large mice’, terrify me. Cats terrify rats (and mice, large or otherwise).
So, in theory at least, having cats around should keep the rats at bay. Just in case.
But that’s all the rat-talk I can cope with. I shall come back to number four once I’ve had a lie down.
Number Four
They’re clever.
Struggling with the cryptic crossword? Ask a cat. Can’t get to grips with your kid’s math homework? Ask a cat. IPhone Broken? You get the idea.
Number Five
They’re great at letting you know when it’s time to go to bed.
A lot of us believe that cats are nocturnal, or at least have nocturnal tendencies. Which means that there’s nothing like the sight of a happily snoozing cat at the end of a long day to convince you it’s time to hit the sack.
As it happens, cats are actually ‘crepuscular’, meaning that they’re at their friskiest at daybreak and as the sun goes down. But don’t let that spoil the illusion.
Number Six
They miss me when I’m not around.
Frankly that look of indignation when I returned from vacation last year spoke for itself. Unacceptable, cat feeder or not.
Number Seven
They don’t scratch me (anymore).
Nothing says ‘I love you’ more than a perfunctory swipe of a paw, claws still safely tucked behind those cute little pad things.
What’s happened, puss? You used to draw blood. Loves me, it’s obvious.
Number Eight
They take an interest in my hobbies.
Those watching eyes don’t lie. Plus, when I’m out of the house they like to get all over my stuff so they can figure out what I’ve been up to all day.
Of course, my hobbies mostly revolve around knitting and twine of various kinds, so that might have something to do with it.
Number Nine
They’re beautiful.
Of course they are. Just look at them.
Enough said!!!
