I know that I never talk about my cats. That I'm not one of those bloggers who interrupts travel recaps just to shout MY CAT IS SO CUTE! That I'm definitely just one of those chill pet-owners who treat their animals like animals and who would never dream of dressing up the cat like a Christmas elf.
It's hard being perfect like that. Hard, but rewarding. Therefore, today I will not end my long streak of never ever ever talking about my cats ever and I will not brag about our little Cosmo.
Now here's the deal: everyone who meets Cosmo thinks he's unique. Since I am obviously blinded by his sheer awesomeness, I choose to interpret 'unique' as god-like, whereas most people are using the term in a genial fashion because truthfully they really would rather label our cat as 'weird' and 'unhinged' and/or 'odd'.
Once when Dan's family was over for dinner, Cosmo was reclining in the crook of my arm like a baby, just watching everyone. Finally Dan's aunt couldn't take it anymore: "That is the strangest cat I've ever seen! He thinks he's a person!"
Dan gave a hearty laugh and told her that she should just be glad she didn't meet Cosmo five years ago, because holy catnip Batman but our little grey barn cat was...okay, I still thought he was perfection, but I concede he was crazy.
If he was a person, he probably would have ended up in juvy.
He split the vet's chin once.
He scratched my sister's friend in the eye.
He broke into the neighbour's apartment. Not their house, their apartment.
If people even looked at him, he would hiss at them.
Once my dad was sitting on Cosmo's spot on the couch, so Cosmo jumped from the floor and went sailing over my dad's head just to hiss and spit his displeasure over his spot being taken.
But over the years he has mellowed, and I think now he's quite sweet (though, I've always thought he was sweet). Last Christmas friends came over who had little kids, and we were worried about how Cosmo would behave around them, but he was great as long as he was sitting in his chair. He didn't like being down on the floor with the kids, but he never hissed at them; instead, he would get back up on the chair or jump up onto my lap where he surveyed those little creatures in bewilderment and wondered what their deal was.
(Poppy was in hiding, of course).
So cut to yesterday, and over lunch I took Cosmo outside so he could run around (we live in an apartment building) and since it was sunny of course I took some pictures of the little guy.
(Poppy hates being outside, in case you think this isn't an equal cat household.)
Oh the sweetness.
I love it outside!
As I was lounging in the grass while Cosmo was eating the grass, I heard the frantic pummeling of tiny feet on cement, and as the footsteps got closer, the sound of excited breathing escaping around a pacifier. Turning around, there was the neighbour's little blonde two year old running full speed ahead right at Cosmo.
I tried to get to Cosmo before the kid could, but hot damn are two year olds ever fast. Like, they are crazy quick. The little boy fell onto Cosmo where he ran his hands all over Cosmo's ears and planted pacifier kisses onto Cosmo's head.
The parents were finally catching up to their kid at this point, and I had reached Cosmo who definitely looked alarmed. I picked up Cosmo and crouched down so the little boy could pet him, and Cosmo...didn't do anything! He just swallowed his grass and stared at everyone like, "Dudes, I was right in the middle of eating grass. Come on. You know I only get out here once a day. Everyone be cool. I'll be cool. Just let me get back to my grass."
Since I'm a cat whisperer and could clearly understand him, I put him down where he went back over to the grass and rolled around while the little boy crouched next to him and slapped 'gentle' pats onto Cosmo's belly. It was so cute, and the parents and I had a really fragmented conversation (them Swiss-German, me Germenglish) over what a beautiful cat Cosmo was, and how gentle he was. Now if that is one description I never thought I'd hear about Cosmo, it's that he's gentle.
Not going to lie, I felt immensely proud.
Afterall, this is the same cat who tried to climb my legs once and left so many scratches that at my next doctor's appointment my doctor surveyed my legs and gently enquired if I was alright. If everything was okay with me.
"Oh, god! No, I'm fine. I have a cat. A great cat, just...crazy."
But as of yesterday, and according to my neighbours and their two year old son, it's been announced that not only is Cosmo a great cat, he's also a gentle cat.
My little juvy is growing up.
(Though, I on the other hand might need to work on how to factually title my blog posts.)