The only cat I remember from my childhood was a mean old Siamese that lived with my cousins. They (my cousins) were incredibly mean to that cat, teasing him so much that all he would ever do when approached was strike out with his claws. He got me once, and I never wanted a cat.
There was also a darling little kitten that I desperately wanted before the Siamese incident, but that didn’t happen.
When I got my own place as an adult, I wanted a pet. I was too busy to have a dog, so I got a kitten. Since I had only ever had dogs, I trained him like a dog. Everything worked well, except I could never get him interested in leash work. My parents used to laugh and ask if I was going to take him for a drag.
I’m on my second cat now, and like any parent, I’ve done a better job with her than with the first one. Gave up on the leash a long time ago, but she’s still rather dog-like. The roles in our relationship are clearly defined. I provide her with an excellent life of leisure, and she provides me with companionship and occasional adoration. (Occasional is important, because a human should not be spoiled. I think that’s rule number one in the cat manual.)
- Grooming while lying next to me.
- Bristly tongues that don’t leave pools of saliva behind like dog tongues.
- Excellent cuddles.
- Indoor pest control.
- Not excessively needy.
Things I don’t love about having a cat:
- The litter box.
- Fur on my clothes.