Kitty Companionship

Wikipedia defines the cat as “A small carnivorous mammal that is valued by humans for its companionship…”

Companionship? Really?

It would be nice to have a small, warm companion waiting for me at home. This imaginary pet is always glad to see me. It lies contentedly on my feet, warming them without shedding on my socks. It sympathizes with my troubles and never throws up on the rug.

I have tried to establish a companionable relationship with my roommate’s cats—Scam and Con—to no avail. They do not place much value on human companionship. As far as I can tell, they do not place much value on anything beyond food, water, and the joy of disturbing my peace at 4:00 a.m. by caterwauling outside my bedroom door.

Wikipedia may be wrong about companionship, but it is dead right when describing them as carnivorous! I thought I might be able to earn their affection by feeding them delicacies which my roommate, Tiny, withholds as inappropriate for feline consumption. Show me a well-fed cat, and I will show you a beloved human.

Or, so I assumed.

I purchased a package of artificial crab meat for $4.68 and took it home to win the hearts of Scam and Con.

I have news for you.
They have no hearts to win, and if they did, it would cost more than $4.68.

They crowded near me, purring like fuzzy chainsaws and yowling greedily. I sat down on a chair and tossed pieces of artificial crab their direction. They gobbled it up and crept closer to my feet. This was the moment of truth! Any time now, one of them would lie down to warm my toes and sympathize with my troubles.

They worship me, I realized, smugly. I am benevolent and kind. I bestow good gifts upon their worthless, furry selves. They stand in awe—“OUCH!”

Scam bit me on the foot! Not on the toe, mind you, which would have been painful enough, but on the arch. Have you ever been bitten on the arch? A good friend of mine once dated a guy who—

But I digress from the treachery of Scam and Con.

That was the last time I fed them anything at all. They are permanently stuck with the dull, unimaginative meals of dry cat food which Tiny doles out every evening. She has been feeding them for twelve years, and they are no closer to having a companionable relationship than Congress is to paying off the national debt.

I have eaten Tiny’s cooking, so I can hardly blame the cats for refusing to accept her meals as sufficient payment for loving companionship.

All the same, I would like to meet the author of that Wikipedia article on cats and their value as companions to humans. I have a gift for that mysterious author—the remnants of a $4.68 package of artificial crab.

Let him try it sometime!