A shift in the balance of power

Hubby and I got a cat.

We already had a cat. Nothing happened to her. We just got another one.

Something happened to me two months ago that has happened with increasing frequency during recent years: my maternal instinct started kicking in. Big time. Perhaps it’s because I’m in my prime childbearing years, and I’ve long since passed the age at which my mother had me. Perhaps it’s because most of my friends have moved on from being newlyweds to being new parents. Perhaps it’s being recently wed to the Sweetest Man on the Face of the Earth and the questions have shifted from “When are you going to get married?” to “When are you going to have a baby?” All that combined with hormones that are screaming, “BABIES!!!” makes it pretty unbearable at times.

Hubby and I want to have children. Just not now. We’d like to enjoy more than a couple months or years together in wedded bliss before we have to turn our attentions to something other than ourselves. But a couple months ago, I smacked a sort-of ultimatum before him: it’s either a baby or a kitten.

He looked at me, incredulous. Not because of the proposal of baby-making, but because not a month beforehand I had insisted that we could not get another cat. I was firm in my belief that there must be at least one more human in the house than animals. Otherwise we would lose our ability to pass up cute little itteh bitteh kittehs and turn into crazy cat people who never spawn and eventually leave all our worldly possession to our feline children.

So much for convictions.

The resident cat here, Mai, is a lovely cat. She was the sole-surviving runt of a stray litter in the neighborhood who made her way into Hubby’s garage about four years ago. Hubby, being the Cat Whisperer that he is, patiently coaxed her to a point where she could be brought to the vet and then inside. Having lived alone with him for so long, she naturally adopted him as her person. They love each other to such a degree that I am honestly surprised that I was allowed to penetrate their secret circle.

I have to admit, I was in the market for an itteh bitteh kitteh. You know, the kind that can fit in the palm of your hand, with a head comically bigger than the rest of its body. The kind that I could mold into my own minion of adorable doom, who would love only me and scoff at the possibility of being cuddled by anyone else.

Naturally, when we got to PetSmart, the first cat that was placed in my arms was pretty much full grown. She was only nine months old, so still essentially a kitten in spirit, but she was almost just as big as Mai.

“This cat is cute,” I whined to Hubby, “but I want an itteh bitteh kitteh! There’s nothing itteh bitteh about this kitteh at all.”

The not-so-itteh-bitteh-kitteh in my arms seemed to sense my dissatisfaction with her size, pulled back and glared at me. She then proceeded to cuddle as close to me as possible, nuzzling her little head under my chin, revving up the purr motor to the highest decibels. Damn. This cat must have also been trained in Jedi mind tricks.

The real whammy to my resistance came when Hubby tried to hold her. She allowed him to pet her, rub her, and scratch her noggin, but the moment he attempted his own cuddling, she pushed away from him, trying to get back into my arms. Now, I by no means wanted a cat that despises the love of my life. But I had to admit, there was a sweet satisfaction in knowing that this cat would be mine, that I would be her person, the way that Hubby is Mai’s person.

Size be damned. I wanted that kitteh. We got that kitteh.

Her name is now Pandora, and she is just about the most adorable not-so-itteh-bitteh-kitteh in the world. She sits on the back of the sofa and rubs all over our heads. She goes ape shit for food, especially people food. She has a fetish for Q-tips (the best, cheapest kitteh toy ever, I think). She lets me rub her tummy and cuddle her without fearing pointy claws lashing in my general direction. Most importantly, she follows me around like a shadow, even going so far as to come with me into the bathroom and sit on the edge of the tub between the shower curtains whilst I get myself clean. She hasn’t quite gotten the hang of cuddling on my lap yet, but she sure does like to cuddle next to my lap, snuggling up against my foot and grabbing my leg with her giant paws and holding on to it like a security blanket.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. thephotomaestro
    Aug 24, 2010 @ 17:48:47

    Cute kitteh! I see why you couldn’t say no!

    Reply

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