Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty

There is something about the presence of a cat… that seems to take the bite out of being alone.

Louis J. Camuti

Guys, there is a cat sitting on my lap.

No wait! You do not understand how huge this is! This is like “the parting of the Red Sea” huge! A miracle of biblical proportions!

See, I married a farmer. And farmers have this secret farmer code called “no-animals-allowed-in-the-house!!” They all know this code, because it is part of their culture, just like Carhartt hoodies and John Deere baseball caps and worn out cowboy boots. When farmers greet one another and repeat the sacred code, they know they are of one mind and spirit. Every single farmer I have ever met in my entire life believes that animals belong outside. They do not come inside, except when you gotta put the newborn lamb or calf or other money-making animal in the warming oven when it’s minus thirty outside.

I grew up as a town kid. I always had animals in my house. They were just a part of my life. All through my marriage to my ex-husband, we had pets. I come from the “oh-my-goodness-if-I-don’t-have-an-animal-I-will-surely-shrivel-up-and-die” camp.

His kids come from his camp. My kids come from my camp. Welcome to blended family problems…

My kids and I have been without a pet for the past two years. The original plan was to have outside animals when we moved to G’s farm, making everyone happy, but that whole plan went hella sideways and we are still in town.

I tried to resist a pet. I really did. I resisted to the point where I now volunteer at the local humane society just so I can get my animal fix. It worked. I saw my animals every day and G didn’t have to put up with cat hair in the house. All was well.

But then, something happened.

A two -year old former shop cat came into the shelter. He was in disgrace because he hadn’t been doing his job. He’s a gentle spirit, you see, and he didn’t like to kill mice. He is the sweetest, friendliest, most chill cat I’ve ever seen. He reminds me of a vegan Californian surfer with a penchant for philosophy. I fell in love.

I went home to farmer husband and said I was in trouble. I needed a cat. THIS cat. He would be a comfort for me and good therapy for the kids. Discussion ensued. Tears were shed. Pleas were spoken. Bargains were struck.

He (Felix) is now residing in our home. Because my husband is awesome and that’s how much he loves me.

Does G like the cat? Nope. Does he want the cat? Definitely not. But he’s good with him being here because he knows something about me.

When G goes snowmobiling in the mountains, he sees God. When I interact with animals, I see God. Two very different people with two very different ways of seeing their creator. As long as we are able to see that in one another and respect and work with that, we are doing a bang up job of this thing called marriage.

Now excuse me while Felix and I go bond over our love of tuna fish sandwiches.

Ps. My mother would like you all to know that the word ” compromised” in the top picture is spelled incorrectly. It’s not my fault.

H.

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