I have a cat. Anyone that knows what a cat looks like, they would recognize my cat as a cat. He’s fluffy, mostly white with a little gray on his head and ears, and a gray tail. His name is Teddy Bear.
Sure he’s cute. And he knows it. It is about his only redeeming quality. Well, that and he has soft fur.
He is also insane.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, especially if you have a cat or cats of your own. “You think your cat is crazy? You should meet MY cat(s)!”
I know, I know, calm down. Cats are crazy, insane, silly, and all-around confusing things. I get it. I live with one, remember? I’m not trying to say my cat is the only one out there that is ridiculous. And maybe he isn’t really the most ridiculous in the world, but he is definitely very ridiculous in his own special and unique ways.
My wife and I first met this cute cat about 5 years ago in an animal shelter. We were talking about getting a cat (a second one actually, we had another cat at the time), and wanted to get one from a shelter. We met this cat from opposite sides of a plastic barrier, he turned on the charm, and my wife fell in love in less time it takes to swish your tail. He had the cute thing down.
So, we met with one of the people running the shelter, met the cat in person (being cuter than ever), paid the fees, and brought this gray and white bundle of cuteness home.
So. He’s a cute cat. Most cats are cute. He eats, meows, poops, sleeps, freaks out over nothing, and does other cat-like things. But this cat is unique from any other cat I’ve ever met because he doesn’t act like any cat I’ve ever met. Or even ever heard of. Not that I’m an expert or anything, but I have met a few cats in my day.
Most cats are pretty independent. They do things themselves, they are fine spending time by themselves, they often prefer to be by themselves. They might let you pet them for bit, but usually they’re pretty content doing their own thing. Without you.
Not my cat. He can’t stand to be alone. He wants to be close to either me or my wife at all times. As close as possible. His favorite spot is on either my lap or my wife’s lap. He doesn’t care what we are doing or if there is any room for him. He wants to sit on my lap.
Here a picture of him in his favorite spot, on my lap. This picture was taken with the camera on my laptop. That’s right. I’m sitting on the couch, with my laptop on my lap, and along comes my cat and he gingerly squeezes his not so tiny body on my lap, in-between me and my laptop, curls up into a ball, and does his best to look cute and innocent.
When he is able to sit in my lap, he never leaves it unless pushed off, or lured off by my wife offering to pet him or give him treats.
When he can’t get a lap, he likes to sit next to me. Next to me as in pressed up tightly against my thigh. Often he will lay down a little bit away from me, and then slowly shift backwards or sideways until he’s as close to me as he can get.
If that doesn’t work, or doesn’t work long enough for his liking, he will sit on the floor right next to my or my wife’s feet. He’ll often tickle our feet by bumping his whiskers or head against them while licking a paw or something.
He loves to be petted. He can’t get enough of it. He doesn’t even care if you pet him the wrong way. He will always, ALWAYS, come back for more. The only time Teddy Bear walks away from me when I am petting him is if I stop petting him, or if he sees my wife and thinks he can get her to pet him too. Sometimes he will bounce back and forth between us like a ping-pong ball with ears and a tail. Even if I move too quickly and startle him, he almost never goes far and almost always comes back to be petted some more. It’s like an addiction for him. I feel like an enabler. Maybe I need to try to enroll him into a 12 step program or something.
He doesn’t even like to play with his toys by himself. He does sometimes, especially when my wife adds fresh catnip to them, but not often. His favorite toy is a shoe lace. An old, beat up shoe lace. You hold one end, and drag it around on the ground, and he’ll play with it. If you aren’t dragging it around, he will almost never give it a second glance. Though I sometimes get around this by loosely wrapping part of it around his tail, and let him drag it around behind him (usually in smaller and smaller circles) for a little bit.
He hates it when my wife and I go out. If we don’t remember to shut the bedroom door when we are both away from home, he will usually spend a lot of time on my wife’s pillow. Leaving a huge amount of loose fur all over our bed. Once we came home to find him underneath the covers. He hates it when my wife and I go to bed. And if we don’t get up early enough for him, or if he hears our alarm, he’ll often post himself outside our door and meow at us until we open the door.
He is the most insecure cat I’ve ever known. Most cats act like they own everything they see, hear and smell. Not Teddy Bear. He likes to hide. He hides from the vacuum cleaner. He hides when anyone comes over. Sometimes he’ll come out and meet the intruder, if they hang around long enough and stay fairly quiet and still. He hides when the doorbell rings, or when someone knocks. He sometimes hides (or at least starts to run toward a hiding spot) when I walk in the door coming home from work. He is scared of the noise of plastic bags. (Even though plastic bags are one of his favorite treats, along with my wife’s cyclamens. Neither are encouraged.)
My cat Teddy Bear is basically the ultimate example of a scaredy cat.