Monday, October 4, 2010

An Ode to Poop (the cat)!

Matt's (our) cat turned 16 years old today.  I'd like to dedicate this blog post to him.

Poop is one of the strangest, scariest and most beautiful cats I've ever known.  When I first started dating Matt I immediately tried to cuddle with Poop and get him to love me by loving him... mistake.  I quickly learned that Poop is not a "cuddly" cat and if he wants any sort of attention, he wants it from Matt.  Period.  I was warned that he was "homicidal" and quite a few friends of Matt's asked me if I wanted to hire a hit man to "take him out".  Yikes.

The bottom line is that Poop would much prefer to track down a small (or large) mammal, kill it and eat it in our living room than he would like to have a long pet on the couch. 

I spent a year or so slowly trying to earn Poop's trust (I was, after all, taking away his roommate and best friend).  I mean, this was a serious project.  Eventually Poop would sleep next to me and let me pet him or brush him (for about a minute at a time) but he would never come to me when I wanted him to and deep down I knew that the attention he was giving me was simply a product of his boredom with my saying his name over and over again.

Meanwhile, 5 years later, I love Poop and I know he loves me even though he still follows Matt around and leaves me in a split second when Matt walks in the room. 
We were a bit scared when we brought Daniel home because we didn't know how Poop would react (he left our friend's Pit Bull bleeding in a corner once) and there have been some moments when we've held our breath, but it's been pretty good. 

Nowadays, Poop pretty much ignores Daniel (that's a good thing) and Poop happens to be one of Daniel's most favorite playthings (umm, not always good).  In fact, Daniel now calls pretty much everything, "Kitty!" in a really high pitched, excited voice.  A bird in a tree?  "Kitty!".  A cute dog?  "Kitty!"  Certain kids in the playground? "Kitty!"  It's damn cute.  Check out this video (also great footage of our little walking monster):

So, Happy Birthday to our friend, Poop.  We love you and thank you for not killing any of us (yet).

1 comment:

  1. Let's not forget the tetanus shot for the bites on my hand and the suicide-attempt looking scratches on my wrist..
    So with extreme reluctance, I say, "HB, Poop".