Do those cats have any idea how hard I worked on the pillow I made for them? Hell, no...ungrateful little quadrupeds.
I decided to use some scrap fabric I had to make a "kitty pillow." I designed it myself, painstakingly sewing little squares of discarded fabric together to form a hip, ultra-groovy pillow for our two cats to park themselves on next to the fireplace. I had visions of two cats who were so proud of their new one-of-a-kind pillow that each would prance in the window sill, taunting all of the other cats in the neighborhood for being so square and not having a mom as cool as their mom.
Ten minutes after putting the final stitches on the pillow, I laid it on the floor, anxiously awaiting one or both of our cats to pounce on it, so excited to even think such a glorious creation was made just for them. I honestly expected that to happen, but then I became keenly aware of my ability to flip swiftly into the land of delusion.
Neither cat gave a damn about that pillow. Oh, I did get some strange glances because I had plopped something down in front of them that was foreign, and being they are creatures of habit, nothing new introduced into this household (no matter how insignificant) is ever welcomed with open arms until the proper amount of scrutiny has been given.
My feelings were hurt. I know this is crazy, but I think anyone who has ever read my blog understands that I'm neurotic, and I no longer offer apologies or explanations. The thing of it is, I feel my cats are my children, and if they don't respond automatically to something I've done for them, I grow anxious and sad, feeling unloved and under appreciated...from creatures who don't even have opposable thumbs (showing how far they have truly evolved--sarcasm). I will add this to the, "Why Poseidon and I should not procreate" column of our "Baby or No Baby Decision" list.
Is there is a 12-step program for pathetic?
--Fortuitous Observer
