Chase and I have a cat named Chub Chub who happens to be our greatest pride and only joy. I never know whether I should hyphenate his name (Chub-Chub), condense it into one word (ChubChub) or only capitalize the first C (Chubchub/Chub chub/ Chub-Chub). When Chase still held the title of “boyfriend,” he found the cat on Craigslist and decided to adopt him. The owners of the cat lived an hour and a half away, at the end of a dead-end road situated perfectly for committing a double homicide.
Unfortunately, they weren’t murderers (sorry for the disappointment). They rescued the cat from a dump, had him neutered, and sent us home with not only the cat, but a bag of food, a litter box, and a 20-pound bag of Petco’s finest litter. The cat’s veterinary records stated his name was Gus, and his approximate age was 3-5.
In case you’re not a cat person, Gus is a horrible cat name. The cat didn’t respond to Gus, although cats in general don’t respond well to humans. We renamed Gus “Okay” because the rescuers said they fell into calling him Orange Kitty instead of Gus (get it? Orange Kitty…OK?)
The name OK turned out be a very flat joke. After about a year of calling him OK, I began calling him other names like “Buddy Boo” or “Bumperschizckel.” One day, I called him “Chub-Chub” and it stuck. Chub-Chub has brought a great deal of happiness to my life, and I've lost all my human friends due to my obsession with him. (That's only partially false).
The reason people divide themselves into categories such as “Dog-Lovers,” or “Cat-Lovers” is because someone decided that we cannot love two different things. I am allowed to “like” cats and “love” dogs, or “like” dogs and “love” cats, but my god, I cannot love both. This phenomenon also occurs with music genres, movie preferences, human preferences, and meat. How often have you heard someone declare they enjoy steak and tongue equally? Ever? No? I rest my case.
Strangers have long debates over cats and dogs in online forums or at bus stops or on the subway riding home after a long day of work. I once overheard a couple in a heated argument over the difference between onions and scallions. I’m sure that if they had the capacity to take a step back and really evaluate their craziness, they may have felt shame.
Cats are also pretty good at invoking shame. If I’m feeling depressed I may feel jealous of Chub-Chub because:
1.) He has no responsibly and can sleep all day with absolutely no fear of getting scolded by his boss or missing a car payment.
2.) Someone feeds him. And cleans that horrid box he is forever destined to poop in.
3.) He is allowed, even encouraged, to be exceptionally moody. Moody cats are “normal” cats. Moody humans are “mean” humans. If humans did all the things cats do (sleep on top of the refrigerator, rub your leg as you pee, play with shoestrings), we would label that human “crazy” or “weird” or at the very least “eccentric.”
I love cats because they don’t give a fuck. If I didn’t give a fuck I might as well be dead, but cats? Cats don’t give enough of a fuck about me to care if I’m feeling happy or sad or insane, so long as I pour the Purina into that small ceramic bowl and leave the toilet lid up. Cats are independent, and I think us cat lovers like that. We wish we could have that much attitude and get away with it. Chub Chub’s most recent attitude is something like: “I don’t need you. But I love you. But I also kind of hate you."
People think dogs are man’s best friend. Good thing I’m not a man, because I’m so fucking happy with the Chubs that it hurts in the nicest kind of way. Whenever I come home after being gone for a long period of time, he's sitting at the door waiting for me. That sort of unconditional love is difficult to find, and nothing feels better. Dogs are also known for this, so how about we bridge that divide a bit? I mean, no matter what, I’ll always be on the cat end of the dog-cat spectrum. I hope we can still be friends
Tweet me @sarahmac_attack and let me know why you're a dog/cat person.