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My life has become truly catty

It’s confession time so here goes. I am a crazy cat lady. There, I said it and I feel better already.

I’m not sure exactly when the shift from cat-fancier to mother-of-the-cat happened, but it happened. What is particularly ironic about this change in attitude is that in the past I have, perhaps, had less than understanding thoughts about people who are overly fond of their cats.

How could someone get that attached to an animal? I mean it’s a cat with fur, claws, whiskers and meows. It does not possess human qualities, and is not a full-fledged family member, right?

That was how the old me thought. The new me, the crazy cat lady me, had an awakening to the truth. Cats, at least the one with whom I live, are far more than animals. Again, I speak only about my own kitty, which I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is much more human-like and special than other kitties.

Becoming a cat lover was not on my life agenda. In fact, when our last cat, which was actually my daughter’s cat but remained with us when she left home, met its maker, I was sad. I also was sure that was the end of cats in my life.

I mean I loved that animal in the usual way humans love pets and I liked that he was around sleeping on the deck, occasionally jumping into my lap when I was outside. He was a nice cat and we had a nice friendship, but when I said goodbye to him I thought it was goodbye to personal relationships with felines.

Oh, but life can sometimes have other plans for you, and when it dropped a cat into my life last fall I didn’t realize how my attitude was about to change. In the months that followed, this animal, this ball of fur inched its way into our family until it is now one of us in a way I didn’t imagine possible.

Of course, as I said, it is a special animal unlike other cats I’m sure. In fact, it is more dog-like in some ways. Percy, my baby’s name, is not aloof like many cats. He is downright affectionate and loving.

Hard to admit this, but I have on occasion stopped in the middle of something relatively important to give the cat my lap and my attention. It’s hard to resist when he follows you around crying like a baby until you stop and hold him for a few minutes.

And now another confession — Percy does, if he so desires, sleep in my bed. I cannot believe those words were typed by these fingers. Me, who swore no animal would live in my house, has a cat in her bed.

Oh and not just on the bed but right beside me, head on the pillow, paw on my cheek, purring in my ear. What happened to the sane woman I was before this animal arrived in my life?

This whole thing is a lesson for me, one I keep learning over and over. Never ever say you will not do something. Never ever proclaim that something won’t happen because you do not know what fur-covered miracle the universe may send your way.

And you just never know when the tide will turn and you will wake up to discover you have become that thing you thought impossible — a crazy cat lady who is so happy to at last make this public confession of her cat craziness.