Conquered by a Kitten!

A Die-Hard Dog-Lover Learns that Cats Make the Ideal Pet

Up until recently, you couldn't have paid me to keep a cat in the house. So darned independent. Eats and sleeps and that's it. They only want to play when they decide it's playtime. They break stuff. Nope, for me it was dogs all the way, baby. Dogs are pretty much perennially happy. You can wrestle with them, run on the beach with them. I swear there are times when I've talked with my dog and it knew exactly what I was saying. But cats? Come on. A cat could care less what your problems are. And it sure won't go for a walk with you.

So what the heck am I doing with a kitten sitting on my shoulder while I'm typing this article?

Go figure. The other day, my daughter came home from school, holding a little matted ball of fur in her hands that was about the most pitiful excuse for a kitten I've ever seen in my life. "It was abandoned," explained my daughter. "And it needs a home." I'm not sure what was worse: the sad Bambi eyes of my daughter or the sad, confused Bambi eyes of this kitten. Which -- by the way -- I wasn't entirely convinced really was a kitten because it looked more like a cross between a rat and squirrel with a face that reminded me of Groucho Marx on a bad hair day. My reply -- in my best un-sympathetic Clint Eastwood voice: "...Clean it up...dry it off...and let's take it to the vet before it infests the house with whatever it is that it's contaminated with...." I don't know if Clint Eastwood ever had to deal with a kitten before, but darn it -- I'm thinking mowing down a bunch of crackheads in Hell's Kitchen with a .347 Magnum has got to be easier than this.

I refused to be compromised by a kitten. Not me. Not the great hunter. Not the bread winner. Not the man of the house. A kitten can not fetch the newspaper. It won't shake your hand. It won't catch a Frisbee in mid-air. So what happened when my daughter handed me this tiny feline and I held it in the cup of my hand? I pretty much crumbled right then and there. Powerless to fight back against this helpless ball-of-yarn wanna-be.

Some tough guy I turned out to be.