Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Cats and Dobes

I became an animal lover when I was in the 7th standard. It was almost sudden.

A cat walked into my house and got instantly adopted. It walked in with not just lady luck but also with loads of confidence. So it not only got adopted but also instantly inherited the throne and became the head of the family. Isn't that what happens when you become the centre of attention of the head of the family? He was our first pet and mom named him the most obvious name - Puss.

Luckily for Puss, I was the only one in the family who was scared of cats. So he stayed. But my fright was mere lack of experience. I too relished the fantasy of cuddling a soft ball of fur that had life!

Only a week had to pass before I had myself gleefully running around the house with Puss around my neck.

In case you're wondering, yes, Puss DID get into dad's boots!

After Puss got stolen after a year and a half (that's the reason for his disappearance that we'd like to believe), we were cat-less till dad surprised the rest of us one day with a quarter sized white kitten. I thought it was a male that got fatter by the day, till one day she gave birth. Only then did I realize that it wasn't obesity. Just pregnancy. That was the first time. And then, several deliveries later, my house had almost a cricket team of cats.

Aah! It was a cute, furry world with cats of 3 generations running in and around the house. While mommy cat licked herself clean in her bed, her older kids would be out in the balcony sunbathing after a heavy lunch and her younger children and grandchildren would be busy finding their way up to my thighs while I struggled to complete my drawing sheet. True story this! Cute story. I have lots of permanent cat-scratch and bite marks. But, who's complaining?

No more cats now at home (reason at the end of the post).
What my family now has is a black Doberman. A she-doberman (doberwoman would be easier to say).
Maggi is not the perfect replacement for all those cats, in the physical sense. I can't pick her up and put her at the back of my neck. I might crack my spine. I can't have the fun of feeling a prickly tongue cleaning the curd off my palms. Mag's lick is smooth, silent. And she doesn't fit in my lap.

Maggi loves to be petted, just like my cats did. She is a great mood enhancer too. Isn't that what we all need our pets for? Oh, we youngest-in-the-house people have another reason too. When we get scolded by all the elders, we can scold the pet.

Now here are the other differences between Mag and my cats. Mag treats us like Gods. I'd like her to be more respectful about herself but she just acts like... like a dog!

And the other difference? Mag won't elope.

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