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  • Writer's pictureSarahHauer

No Buttons for Friday

This is my daughter's cat, Friday. I think I have blogged about her before.

I am not a cat person. I am more of a dog person. Friday has grown on me over the years. She started off as a rather mean, biting cat. We didn't know anything about her background, if she sustained abuse or what, but she didn't like being touched. She simply wanted to be left alone unless SHE decided she wanted to lie on your head or something. She was a "my way or the highway" type of cat. Nowadays, as she has aged and mellowed, she likes a good scratch under the chin.

One thing that has never changed about her is her habit of meowing very loudly every time she uses her litter box. Loud. Every time. As she mellowed, now she has added her need for a chin scratch after her verbal declaration that she has expelled waste in the proper container.

I read the research. There are various reasons why a cat might meow after using their potty. Since her declarations have been consistent, I think it is safe to say her meows are simply proclamations that she has done her duty and would appreciate it scooped. Too bad for her, my daughter refuses to scoop until bedtime, and she is not my cat. As I stated, I am not a cat person. I didn't want her. When she passes, I might shed a tear or two.

Besides meowing every time she defecates, she also insists on sitting on me even though I am not her owner. I am not the one who feeds her or scoops her poop or clips her nails. My daughter does all that. (If anyone thinks this is a child labor laws issue, my daughter is an adult.) But I am the one she sits on, cuddles with, and covers with her hair as she tangles herself in mine. I looked up this behavior too. It seems she is claiming me as her property. It may be she finds my attempts to ignore her a personal challenge to dominate me.

I'm a bit addicted to those videos of dogs talking to their humans with buttons. I am a dog person. I don't currently own a dog. My health precludes me from the care a dog requires for a healthy, fulfilling life, so I have banned myself from owning a dog without the help a human life partner would bring to help with those tasks. My daughter isn't home enough. Cat's are less work.

In the past, I had dogs that couldn't understand their own name, and I have had dogs who I swear could have given a TED talk on the virtues of twice daily walks around the neighborhood. If they had been available, I probably would have gotten buttons like those for the dogs I cared for and loved.

Now, I am seeing videos on cats using those same buttons. Frankly, I would have thought cats too uppity to relegate themselves to attempt conversation with us mere humans. I offered the idea to my daughter of introducing Friday to a few of those buttons. She gave me a flat out no. Further explanation gave me the impression she felt days would be filled with lectures from Friday on how she is failing her as a cat servant, especially since Friday is a tuxedo cat. Apparently, tuxedo cats are more moody and dominating? Finicky? I don't know. I don't have the cat experience to judge such things.

What I do know is that there is one significant similarity between cats and humans with big egos. They both like to make demands on food service and declarations about their crap.

I can hear Friday at happy hour at a bar after a hard day of hunting toys and taking naps. There she sits, on a stool, slamming down the milk, and meowing, "Can you believe it? I did exactly as I was told. I followed the directions as stated to me. And she wouldn't even look at me to acknowledge I did a good job covering it all up. I'm following the guidelines to a T! And the big boss - I treat her like a queen! I took care of that lizard that got in the house two years ago. I sit on her head when she sleeps. I share the blanket with her. I purr in her face. I even have the decency to leave a hairball on the carpet instead of one of my nine lives when I am choking. Does she care? Does she give me any treats? No. She barely knows I'm alive." Another big swig of milk and a hit of catnip. "Hell, she didn't even see how I pulled apart the corner of the couch for her sharpening my nails. I should have gotten a nice bonus chin scratch after that job was done. Naw. Instead, all she did was clap her hands at me. Does she really think I appreciate that?"

Cats. Egos. My daughter is right. No buttons for Friday.

Do you have a pet with a human sized ego too?

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Thanks for reading!


Humor in Chaos


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