Someone told me that I ought to post kitty pictures when I was complaining about having writers block the other day, so I figured I’d take the bait and introduce everyone to Logan, James’ cat.
Logan is the first cat that I have ever truly loved with every ounce of my being.
I have a history of being allergic to cats, so despite liking felines… I never really gotten the chance to bond with one because going to a home with cats generally resulted in my head filling up with more mucus than what should be humanly possible and my eyes burning like someone tear gassed me within 15 minutes of being there. Plus, petting a cat? Out of the question unless soap and water was immediately available, so in general… I just didn’t bother.
When I moved to NYC, something shifted and I no longer was no longer so intensely allergic every time I wandered into the domain of a cat. I attribute some of it to the fact that wall to wall carpeting in NYC is uncommon, which means there’s less places for cat dander to get caught long term. However, I’m also wondering if there’s some truth to that saying that your allergies change every seven years because I can pet cats now with minimal issues.
But oh yes, Logan.
You know how they say that cats often reflect the personalities of their owners? It’s totally true. Logan and James are so much alike. Totally independent minded snuggle bugs.
Due to the fact that there was a hole in the kitchen ceiling for much of 2011, Logan made up his mind that he was an indoor/outdoor cat… which believe me, I can feel all of my cat loving friends cringe at the thought of a indoor/outdoor cat in New York City. Believe me, it bothers me, too… but considering that he’s faster than I am when I open the front door, I’ve learned to live with it.
Often, he’ll end up accompanying me to the end of the block when I’m leaving. James tells me that occasionally he’ll be waiting at the end of the block to walk him home when he gets home at night. If he gets out when one of us is at home, he’ll meow at the bedroom window to let him in.
He’s also a talented rat killer.
Every once in awhile, a rat finds it’s way into the basement by accident… and those critters don’t last long.
He got one last week… I was quite proud except for the part where he decided to leave it for us on the freshly vacuumed rug.
“DUDE! Did you not just see James vacuum that rug 15 minutes ago?! AND YOU HAVE TO LEAVE YOUR DYING RAT ON MY CLEAN RUG!?”
I like to pretend he understands me at least.