I’d like to explain to whoever thought that pets were relaxing that, so far this morning, my two cats have stolen my keys, knocked over a glass of water, attacked the curtains, tripped me and challenged the printer to a fight. Sounds about as relaxing as a preschool, and there’s only two of them!

They do relax me, though. I work from home, and during the day, it’s just them and me. If it wasn’t for them, I probably would have started talking to the plant ages ago. At least the cats acknowledge me — if the plant responded, I’d have to worry.

Lots of days, I focus on ‘what the heck the cat’s got up to now’ rather than on things I can’t do anything about. It’s a nice arrangement: I feed them and give into the fact that everything in my apartment is a kitty toy, and they distract me from the real world. They also provide an excellent lap warming service.

I can’t think of anyone I’ve ever even heard of that thought that his or her pet was more trouble than it’s worth. A friend even owned a python that escaped every other week. No matter what he had to do to get that snake back in the cage, he loved just hanging out with the beast. His mother didn’t seem to see why a hamster or a gerbil couldn’t be as relaxing, but that snake was his pet. It caused him no end of worry, just like my cats, but it also distracted him from less important things and gave him a listening ear — or whatever a snake uses to hear.

by Thursday Bram

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