Let me just start by saying I love cats. I've always loved cats and always had them as pets growing up. I'll even confess to occasionally dressing up my cats in little hats and sweaters as a child. Never, though, did I imagine I would become one of those people: the crazy cat ladies that everyone sort of feels sorry for but secretly believes might have human remains stored in their basement. Yeah, you know the ones I'm talking about.
It happened when I had to take my cat -- let's call her Cruella, to protect the innocent -- in for a check-up. She'd been the perpetrator in a horrifying incident the day before that involved the words "green," "projectile" and "diarrhea" that I won't go into in great detail but suffice is to say, there was a lot disinfectant and angry words thrown around that day.
So I take my cat to the vet and that's when it happened. I -- a 30-something childless woman -- referred to my cat as "my baby" to the receptionist when checking Cruella in at the front desk. I then went on to describe her illness using the words "tummykins" and "poo." During Cruella's rather undignified moments with a rectal thermometer, I patted her head and told her, "It's okay sweetie, mommy will get you treaties when we're done." And by "treaties," I did not mean binding legal agreements with foreign countries, I meant little chicken-shaped nummies -- yes, I used the word "nummies;" my condition is an illness, okay? -- that she sucks down like a Great White tucking into a buffet of seals. Oh but wait, it got even better -- while describing to the vet how Cruella gets car sick, I confessed my fear that the cat would be angry with me because usually when I take her in the car, "It's for a trip to Grandma and Grandpa's House and YOU LOVE GOING TO GRANDMA AND GRANDPA'S HOUSE DON'T YOU SWEETIE BEAR CUDDLE BOO MUFFIN NUM-NUM OH MY GOD WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME??!!"
And then my brain slid out my ear and fell to the floor where we all saluted it and said goodbye.
The visit to the vet ended with me agreeing to a $400 preventative surgery and exhibiting excitement at the fact that when it was over, my cat would be provided with a sweater.
I have become a crazy cat lady. I now fear for my sanity yet can't stop thinking about what color the cat sweater might be. I've decided, really, to just give up at this point, pack up the roller brush and just go out in public, fur-covered, with Cruella in that Baby Bjorn snuggly I've always considered buying and cutting a tail hole in. I may take her to Target in a stroller and feed her popcorn at the food counter just like all the other crazy mothers do with their children. Because, honestly, if I've gotten to the point of using the words "sweetie bear cuddle boo muffin num-num" as an adult female human, why bother fighting it? From here, it's a short step toward buying Precious Moments ornaments and wearing un-ironic holiday sweaters.
I'm doomed.
24 comments:
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Oh Liz...welcome from all the other crazy cat ladies! :) You would not believe the singing and loving and conversations my husband and I have with our two cats. We are so THOSE people. :) Hope your wittle baby-kins is better soon! :)
Kathe, thank you for the welcome! We should make t-shirts! :)
Can you really be called a crazy cat lady though? I thought, aside from the baby talk, there was a minimum number of cats you needed to have? I consider that my saving grace (only the one) before descending into the madness!
I have three cats and two dogs. I feel your pain.
Jen, good point. I gave myself the title, though, because if I could have more than one cat, I would. In fact, I would have about eight if Cruella wouldn't attempt to kill every other cat she sees. So really, without Cruella, this house would be so packed with cats they'd shooting out the chimney.
I'm a crazy dog lady. I've done each and every single thing that you mentioned you have done. Even recently I told someone that I thought it would be so cool if I got a scooter and that it would have to have a side car so my dog and I could ride around together.
Join us Liz! We love having new members!
Oh and I do agree with Jen that it's really not how you treat your babies but how many of them you have that decides your craziness factor.
...and seriously, I think we should get a tax deduction for our BABIES! I'd even settle for half a tax deduction...I mean without us would they really survive this cruel world? Nor would they be nearly as fat and sassy! Who doesn't love a fat and sassy cat (or dog)!
Our cats, they humor us. I often wonder if they have secret support groups where they get to sit around and tell "oh, you think that's bad, *MY* human only feeds me half a cup of food a day. I'm down to a gaunt 18 pounds! The humanity! (Felinity?)"
I'm somewhere in the middle here. I have three cats, but I'm not much for the baby talk and can't imagine putting outfits on them. Although I'll admit to playing "Who's a wittle fear demon? Who's a wittle fear demon!" with the cats all the damn time.
I'm not a Crazy Cat Lady. No, my cats are Crazy Human Cats. I mean, it's THEIR house we all live in, after all.
Let me be another one to welcome you to the club! I brought our four cats to the vet last week - at one point during the visit, our super fantastic new vet said, "You really love these cats don't you?"
I don't know if that was because I explained the intricate nuances of their pack dynamics, or if it was the explanation of how we named each of them (among others, we have a Scully and an Andy...after Richard Dean Anderson)
So of course I had to tell him, yes I do love these cats. A lot. It's nice to find people who understand :-)
Welcome to the tribe.
Maybe it's a mental defense mechanism that kicks in after projectile excretions that would make a less devoted cat owner exile the thing to the back yard for ever.
What! Your cat gets a sweater??? I took my baby to the hospital and all she got was a stupid hat!
Man, cats get all the good swag!
O!M!G! It's painful to laugh this hard!!!
THANK YOU!!!
How can I not become a follower, when I'm a Cat Lady myself... just without the cats. Great post!
Oh, man, I'm just as bad as you are, if not worse! We have 2 cats, Trinity (who we call Trinny) who's a 3-l3gged russian blue and Odysseus (Odie) who is an extremely big (not fat big but just BIG) orange tabby. You know you're a crazy cat lady/person when you:
-insert their names into songs, and sing to them
-Have more pictures of your cats on your cellular phone than of ANYTHING else, and show everybody your 'Kids' lovingly by saying they're just so darn cute!
-When you plan your bathroom habits, sleeping habits, and eating habits around your cats- meaning you never shut the bathroom door all the way because they'll cry outside the door, you make room on the bed for them and/or you don't want to move because they're sleeping on top of you even though you have a charlie horse, and you share your dinner with them because you're having salmon tonight, and salmon's their favorite!
-You grow some cat grass (wheat or oat grass) from seeds in planters that you can alternate so they have a constant supply and don't cat barf techno in your shoes.
-You feel guilty leaving them alone over night because they will guilt you the next day.
-You do not mind carrying your needy cat around like a baby perched over your shoulder because she purrs the whole time and will cry if you put her down.
-You have little voices for them, and converse with them more than some of your family.
-It's all you talk about when talking to coworkers- they are surprised to hear you actually have friends and family!
-You position furniture around in a way that pleases your cat.
-You sometimes think 'Aww! They are so cute sleeping in bed like that!' and almost consider sleeping on the couch so you do not disturb their slumber...
-You think 'why do I want kids? It would take attention away from Trinny and Odie cat!' or 'Would they be mad at me if we had kids?'
-You have some kind of screen name that deals with cats, even if it's obscure
I'm not the only one like that, my husband is the same way about our fuzzy kiddies, and from what i see and hear my friends do the same... it's scary cat people territory around these parts apparently...
Well, it's the first step: you've admitted you have a problem. Wednesday night, 7pm (maybe 7.30 if the line-dancing runs over) at the local community centre -- CCLA (Crazy Cat Lady Anonymous)
I actually have a crazy cat lady in my building (2 floors down) who apparently, "goes crazy once or twice a year, and then the police come" or so my neighbour told me before she ran away. This lady has a cat name-plate on her door, and a cat doormat also -- things couldn't get anymore creepy or crazy...
I love the blog by the way. =)
My vet knows me on sight. For one, I'm the only person who would pay for a guinea pig to have surgery (his name was Feyaro).
For another, my 3 cats are named...Dr Mulder, Spock & Bellatrix. Bellatrix is a long haired black cat whose eyes are 2 different colors & Spock is a Siamese. Mulder & Bella are "humane society rejects" with an assortment of issues & Spock screams the place down. I think the vet techs are afraid of me-I called last week to ask if my princess would be ok after eating wasabi peas.
In my house I am renting I cannot get a kitteh!
Unfortunately!
So walked two blocks to Rerun a vintage consignment store.
Bought an AWESOME 1940's Cartoon Cat pillow.
Named him Roger.
or Rog.
!!! YAY! I give my cat, Jack Black, only "Treaties of Versailles!"
He won't response to the word "Treats," he only stops drinking out of the toilet if offered Treaties of Versailles! I'm so glad you understand!
Good for you crazy cat lady.
I'm EXACTLY like you,
But perhaps without the word "cat",
And with a few more, added, factors for crazy. And by a few I mean hundred's.
Then again, at least my cat eats in the laundry...
:)
That's awesome. And frighteningly close to my own recent experience taking MY sweet kitty kitty to the vet. Lol. Oh what have I become? :P
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