Dads and Cats: Life Must Be Cherished, Even When It's Small
We're not getting a cat. It is cute though. Maybe we'll just see how it goes for a bit. Don't touch the cat, it's mine now.
Cats are the runes of beauty, invincibility, wonder, pride, freedom, coldness, self-sufficiency, and dainty individuality - the qualities of sensitive, enlightened, mentally developed, pagan, cynical, poetic, philosophic, dispassionate, reserved, independent, Nietzschean, unbroken, civilised, master-class men.
A Whole New World
Imagine going somewhere new and having no choice on the matter. You’re shut in with no chance of escape, not that you’d want to. The world outside is a bitter, hostile place after all. There is food, though annoyingly scheduled and not simply available at your leisure. But still, there’s food.
In this involuntary relocation destination reside a few inhabitants. They’ve been there a while, it seems. Many areas have been marked, many more have obviously been lived in already. They have their living quarters well worn and you haven’t even had the chance to explore. They’re also giants compared to you.
After a while you start settling down. Nobody has made a genuine attempt to eat you, though the slobbery ones looked like they were thinking about it at the very least. The slobbery one with the fur, you find out, just wants to play.
However, you’ve seen how that one rips the squeakers out of the toys she has and you want no part of having any squeaker you may possess taken out. Even if you could just push your own white fluff back in like the giants do with her toys, it appears unpleasant.
And the bald slobbery one with the flailing limbs is even more terrifying. Being thrown about at will does not look like a good time and neither does having your own limbs pulled about without regard to whether or not they bend this way or that.
And when those two, or any other monstrous entity gets overly friendly and you’re within the largest behemoth’s field of vision, that large one makes loud, booming noises. Utterances you cannot decipher, naturally, but it’s quickly apparent they’re meant to bring about a cessation of the current activity of the others, specifically the slobberers.
On more than one occasion you’re confident that booming guttural utterance saves your squeaker, your limbs, or your life. Other times it was likely all three. Sure, that monstrosity is the largest in the house, but they’re also flippant about your existence. Given how the others barely leave you alone long enough to create smelly clumps or drop logs into sand, that’s a welcome change.
They’re also warm. All the creatures are warm, except the smaller ones with the lifeless eyes they keep dragging across your observed field of lateral movement. What a devious trick. Enticed by movement of the left-to-right or right-to-left persuasion, you go into hunter mode.
After a successful stalk and pounce campaign, complete with killing blow after playful torture has been performed, you find out they were willing participants or at least uncaring and unfeeling pawns in whatever game these hairless giants are playing.
But the biggest is also the warmest. They’re the most calm to boot. What a combination. The first few times you attempted to extract their warmth for your own comfort they moved you away, but you wore them down eventually. Now they sit still, as they should, while you do your thing.
This large one is predictable, mostly calm, protective, warm, will feed you and occasionally perform the ear scritch thing you like so very, very much.
Now this is the life.
Crap, Now I Like The Thing
Picture this: Dad, the steadfast captain of the ship, the guy who probably said, "I'm not a cat person," more times than he's had hot dinners. But then, the family brings home this little ball of fur, and suddenly, it's like watching a grizzled old pirate fall for a mermaid (read: barmaid).
First off, it's not that Dad hates cats. That's too simple, and life, my friend, is rarely simple. It's about seeing the big picture. Dads are often the ones looking at the responsibilities that come with a pet.
Feeding, cleaning, vet bills, and the emotional commitment – it’s signing up for a marathon when you've only ever run to the fridge during commercials. But here’s the kicker: Once the decision is made, and that cat crosses the threshold, Dad's sense of responsibility kicks in. It's like a switch flips in his head.
Now, let's get something straight. Cats, or any pet for that matter, aren't some electronic handheld device you can switch off when you're done playing. They're living, breathing creatures with needs and personalities. Dads understand that.
They know that when you bring a pet home, you're signing up for a lifetime of care. It's not just about feeding them or cleaning their litter box; it's about understanding that this creature depends on you, completely and utterly.
So, what happens? Dad starts to see the cat not just as a responsibility, but as a part of the family. And that's when the magic happens. That tough, no-nonsense exterior begins to crack, and what do you find underneath? A big ol' softie who can't resist a purring cat on his lap. That’s when the bonds form.
It's about the quiet companionship, the unexpected affection, and the realization that this little furball is bringing something unique to his life. Suddenly, Dad's the one buying the fancy cat treats and worrying if Mr. Whiskers is feeling lonely. Why? Because that cat becomes a reflection of his care, his love, and yes, his responsibility.
In short, Dad didn’t suddenly become a cat person. There developed this understanding of life, of committing to care for another life that changed the dynamic.
This dynamic makes you responsible for something more than yourself. And for a lot of dads, that's where the bond with the cat really starts. There was a shift from reluctance to acceptance to, dare I say, love. So next time you see a Dad begrudgingly petting a cat while pretending he's not enjoying it, just remember: he's not just petting a cat; he's embracing a whole new chapter of responsibility and affection. And that, my friend, is the secret life of dads and cats.
Now listen up, because this is important, and I'm only going to say it once. Life, no matter how small, is sacred. It's not a toy, a gadget, or a temporary amusement. It's a living, breathing entity that relies on us, completely and utterly.
When you bring a life into your home, whether it's a cat, a dog, or any other creature, you're making a commitment. A commitment that goes beyond just feeding and cleaning up after them.
This isn't a game, and it's certainly not something to be taken lightly. Every life deserves respect, care, and love. It's about understanding that this isn't just about you anymore. You are responsible for the well-being of another, one that feels, experiences, and needs just as much as you do.
So, take this seriously. Treat every life with the dignity and respect it deserves. It's a huge responsibility, but it's also one of the most rewarding things you'll ever do. Don't forget that. Now, get out there and be the responsible, caring person I know you can be. This is your chance to make a real difference. Don't waste it.
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Dad Explains – Navigating life’s twists and turns, one dad joke at a time. 🚗😄
I have four children. One boy ( now an amazing Man) three daughters.
My kids loved cats. I am allergic to cats. I like dogs. We had a German shepherd, an Irish wolfhound and, five cats.
Dogs, are fuzz friends, Buddies, like my son.
Cats, are, adorable murder floofs.
Very much like daughters.
Don't ask about favorites. The dogs adopted and herd the cats, the cats nap on the dogs and wherever they want.
I think it is a toss up between the cats and my daughter's owning the world, my son, my self, and the dogs were just lucky to be there.