His So Called Life

Poor Earl. Man.

I've heard fellow parents say something to the effect that, "Once you bring that baby home, your best friend/purebred dog/pound puppy/award-winning cat/stray you-rescued-off-the-top-of-the-coke-machine becomes nothing more than an animal inhabiting your house." They warn that the love you have for the new baby is so all-consuming, that you simply forget that, hey, there's this other being (or beings) that depend upon you for not only food and water, but love and play and all of the things that he/she became accustomed to prior to the arrival of Ms. or Mr. #1. These pets get the shaft by not only feeling like their territory has been invaded, but also that their humans no longer love them. Sad, sad stuff.

Ellen, my very elderly and grumpy feline had been surprisingly patient with The Geej. The Geej , of course, is totally delighted by Ellen. If she catches the slightest glimpse of the cat moving from one room to the other, she squeals in utter "I wanna grab me some kitty" delight. And Ellen tolerates The Geej's loudness (probably because she's practically deaf) and all-too-often grabs with very little annoyance. Ellen just gives her this, "Hey, I used to live with a 65 lb. Siberian Husky who was infatuated with my asshole, so you? You're gravy" sort of a look.

My other cat, Earl--who both I and the Texpatriate have written about exhaustively--is almost 4 years old and is one badassmuthafuckin cat. Sorry, but he's one of those dog-like love-bug cats who turn cat haters into drooling imbeciles. In other words, he's the shiznit. But he's also a SUPREME mama's boy. When I was traveling a lot for work, he would put himself in my suitcase while I was packing. Literally. It was sad, but sort of sweet. But since I've come home with my daughter, he's been immensely freaked. He's either hidden himself in my closet or under my bed for weeks now. And wouldn'tcha know it, The Geej is super-obsessed with him. For her, an Earl sighting is something akin to our seeing Bigfoot. I mean, she nearly comes out of her skin when she sees him motoring across the room. So hilarious.

But today, we had a bit of breakthrough, and I think he's beginning to realize that his place as #1 fat orange/white mama's feline boy has NOT been threatened. And he's realizing that--for the most part--when I'm holding the sqeaking being that is The Geej--she's not going to be able to get anywhere near him. (At least for now.)

Peaceable kingdom.