The Eyes Have It

Posted: November 14, 2013 in Family, Health, Humor, Migraine, Photography, Uncategorized
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I have two cats. I say, “I,” because Mr ReloVertigo pretends not to love these pets/companions. He calls them my cats, but when we can’t find one, or it’s very cold out, or one cuddles up to him, he sure is attentive. But I digress. One is male, the other female. The male is large, energetic, and tolerates me on his terms. So, I force love on him when I feel like it. I don’t know why it makes me laugh, but to hug my giant black cat when he acts like he is feeling so undignified, just gives me the chuckles.

The female is also one to love me on her own terms, but she is much more likely to want to be loved. Never picked up, but definitely scratched, petted, and cuddled. Whether I want to or not.

She is really strange about looking me straight in the eye. She does this more than any other pet I’ve ever had, and I have always had at least one animal, from the time I was a small child. That’s a lot of pets; so many that I can’t remember them all. Part of that is because during my early childhood, I had a series of orange tabby cats, and I insisted on naming every one of them Samuel. I have no idea why. I was obsessive even then, I guess.

This female is a beautiful grey tabby. I love her. But her face-to-face, eye-to-eye thing with me is somewhat unsettling. Sometimes, it’s downright creepy. It’s not a dominance challenge the way it would be with a dog. I know other chronic migraineurs whose pets will comfort them when they are in a lot of pain. Her gaze isn’t about that, either. Neither of my cats seem to give a hoot how I feel, as long as I meet their needs. It seems to be a communication thing with her.

When she is ready to be petted, she will sit up next to me and look me right in the eyes, until I finally give in and pet her. When I go to bed, she will sit on the step at my bedside (it’s a tall bed and I’m a short lady), and stare at me until I lie down. Then she will lie on my side. What creeps me out is when she will sit in the middle of the living room floor and stare at me for no reason. After 60 seconds of that, I almost expect her to start talking. In English. Seriously, why does she do that? Of course, there’s always the one where, at night, she stares me in the eye, then looks slightly above and behind me. Yes, thank you, I love when you do that, kitty. It doesn’t make me feel like the killers are behind me, at all.

Today, I lay on the couch for an afternoon nap. I was on my side with my eyes closed, starting to relax. Something made me open my eyes, and right in my face was that cat. She had stood on her hind legs, front paws on the cushion, and she was staring me in the face. “Uh…hi,” I eloquently greeted her. She didn’t move. Or blink. “Can I help you?” Nothing. “Do you want up here with me?” Nope, still nothing. I was starting to think this was going to be a future Twilight Zone episode, where the cat with the big, round, dilated eyes begins to talk, right before she kills the owner with the giant butcher knife she’d previously hidden under the couch cushion. “WHAT?” I blurted. I was freaked out. How could I nap, with this cat staring at me. Standing there, staring at me. It was unnatural, Friendly Reader. Then, I would guess that either my freaked outburst was her goal, or it disturbed her zen, because she calmly put her front feet back on the floor and sauntered away. Nice. Thanks, kitty. Let’s do that again soon.


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