Yes, you read it correctly. Marriage to a feline, marriage to a cat. In light of how the morning is going, it seemed necessary to write a blog for Havoc the cat.
Post surgery, we kept all of the animals (of the four-legged variety, not the bipedal ones) outside. So, the three dogs and the cat took up residence in the rosebushes. Havoc, of course, complained loudly about this.
Havoc is my ragdoll. To be perfectly honest, he WAS Becky’s cat. He was part of her package when first we started dating, and came to “visit” my house one day when she planned to stay for more than one night. After those three nights were over, she was not able to take him home. In the manner of cats, Havoc made it very clear that he had moved in with me and would not be moving out. Ever. This was expressed by him becoming a poop missile the second she tried to put him in the car. Did I mention he usually loves roadtrips, and lies across the dashboard? He even uses the travelling cat litter box in the car…never a single incident until the day Becky tried to take him back home with her.
I had three cats back when I was in University: Puck, Trixie, and Bogart. I loved their little personalities and quirks. None of the three prepared me for Havoc. First of all, he’s lusty. This is the cat who used to yank my shirt aside to climb up to my chest and clutch at my breasts. This is the cat who jumped in the bath with me not once, but twice, in order to lick my toes. Second of all, he’s the most possessive creature I have ever known. I say he is my spouse, my man, etc. when the bottom line is that in Havoc’s world I am just flat-out HIS. He really has no idea what Becky is doing lying in bed with me: when she tries to put her arm over me, he grabs her arm in both paws and bites her. Fortunately, he does not do this to the children. 🙂
I was worried about the effects my surgery would have on Havoc, since he was such a “boob guy.” Now, he has simply transferred his cuddliness to my hips.
In the world of Havoc, there is no room for anything in my life except himself. When I read, he curls up on the book or the kindle. To type this blog, I have pushed him off of me countless times. Yesterday, he sat in front of my laptop and pushed the keyboard repeatedly when I was on Twitter.
Marriage to a cat is an interesting state of affairs. I must admit, he has to be the easiest romance I have ever had. He is easy to please: feed him, scratch behind his ears, or just stare at him and he adores me.
And now, I guess I am off to the Saturday morning races, with a barbecue this evening at my house.
Blessings to you all out there…
One thought on “Marriage to a Feline…”
Love this post. 🙂