Before we get started, lets go ahead and get all the “I’m not a cat person” crap out of the way. Like it’s some sort of mandatory allegiance, whenever the topics of cats come up, people automatically take sides. And more often than not, it’s that of anti-cats. So, haters, know that I could give a crap less what your stance is on cats. I too, was “not a cat person,” but now I am. Things change, roll with the punches.
My cat’s name is Toga – like the type of party – and he is 15 months old. (A stat Chelsea Handler would hate.) He’s also fairly huge. Not fat huge, just giant huge. Like he’s the 8th grader who looks like he’s 30, but with less stubbly facial hair. It’s not his size I find annoying, though – impressive, but not bothersome. It’s his personality.
He is the worst cuddler, plays with crinkly toys at all hours of the night, and knocks over any unattended drink. If you’re showing up just as he’s pre-glass tipping, all the better. He likes to look you in the eye while he behaves like a heathen.
When Toga comes to “cuddle,” it’s more of a source of anxiety than it is comfort. He just can’t sit still. He’ll lie down, then readjust, then wonder why you aren’t petting him, and then wonder why you aren’t petting him with both hands. And he’ll then force you. Now maybe he’s half perched on your shoulder, like you are his personal lounger, and he starts licking your neck. Or ear. Then shoves his nose in your eye socket to get a good sniff. And because they must smell different, he’ll give the other a good nasal examination as well. And just as you’ve fallen back asleep, he’ll walk across your chest – maybe even the neck – just to make sure he knows you know he can suffocate you. If he really wanted to.
Next, he’ll hop up by the window and give the blinds a few taps. Which means, “Human come open these window blocking obstructions,” because 4 am is morning time and he would like to look outside. I would also like him to look outside so I can keep sleeping.
After all that morning activity, the little one is tired for pretty much the next 6 hours. If it’s lunch-ish time, he’s konked out. Most likely IN the box spring or behind the TV. Which are the most normal places for naps, obviously. In a weak moment, he might even be sprawled across the bed, like some sort of homeless pet.
If he didn’t sleep so much during the day, however, I’m far more confident at my chances at actual nighttime sleep.
Does this happen every night? No. Especially when I am smart enough to hide the loud toys. And sometimes, he’s waking me up because the litter box has somehow locked itself shut and can I hurry and unhinge the door already?! Which gets a free pass each and every time.
So why do I put up with him? All the literal and metaphorical crap? Because he’s mine, you buttholes. He loves holding hands, has never once scratched me on purpose, kneads my stomach like there’s no tomorrow, and is just as happy to be with me as I am him. Which is very.
He even has the loud purrs to prove it. In each happy moment, he purrs and purrs until you think a cat couldn’t have purred any louder (he’s within 10 decibels of the Guinness World Record holder; I checked). And your whole body feels as though it’s vibrating through his neck. While it might be unpleasant when trying to sleep – yes, he purrs even when not being petted – at least I know he’s one happy cat. (If men purred when content, I could have saved myself a lot of grief over the years.)
So Toga, the annoying-est, yet sweetest cat, I think I’ll keep you. Maybe not the crinkle toys. But you have earned yourself a permanent stay.