I’ve very limited experience with cats.  Apparently, I don’t count as a “cat person.”  Since three official cat people have told me this, then I have to believe it is true.  For this I blame my dad.  (I can relate to you the sad story of my first cat Blackie when I was only four or five years old, if you really want to know.)  But anyway… My family had the same two dogs for most of my life: one for 12 years and the other for 16 years.  We also had three or four litters of puppies.  Dogs, even random dogs I don’t know, usually like me.  When a dog acts a certain way, I usually know why or what to do.  But cats, cats are a mystery to me.

Despite this handicap, several months ago I became the owner of a very tiny kitten.  (Again I realized I was not a cat person when so many friends expressed their shock at my becoming a cat owner.)  At first, the little Angel was an adorable baby.  My main concern was keeping the scrawny thing alive and healthy.  She became litter box trained immediately and started to grow and to play, whenever she wasn’t napping.

As she continued to grow, I became concerned with her training and behavior.  How did I discipline her?  Was I a good enough cat owner?  The strange things she did mystified me and I struggled to know– do all cats act like that or just mine?  I had no experience to compare to.  My point of comparison became my friend and his kitten.  His kitten was athletic and competitive and fun and focused.  My kitten seemed clumsy and violent and crazy and distracted.  My friend disciplined his kitten well, and they enjoyed each other with little frustration.  My attempts to discipline the ironically named Angel turned into mock battles that usually ended in my hands being covered in scratches and bites.  Thankfully, my patient cat friends continued to calm my fears an answer my silly questions.  It was easy for me to love my little cat, but I often doubted (don’t laugh) whether she was really happy or well-cared for in my dog person home.

Lately, I have come to some helpful conclusions about my cat-owning experience so far.  First, I’ve realized that comparing my friend’s cat with Angel is like comparing him to me: we are too different to compare and comparing ruins the enjoyment of the differences.  Second, as important as it is to study my little cat and try to train her better, I don’t want to miss out on enjoying her.  She is vastly interesting and sweet, if violent, and she doesn’t seem to know that I’m not a cat person.

My sister Leah, upon hearing that I owned a cat, helpfully exclaimed, “Now you’re really an old maid!”  I’m not going to fight against that stereotype, even though anyone that has met Angel knows she’s not your typical old maid cat.  I am, in fact, going to embrace my new-found cat fascination by openly sharing with you all the funny and cool and amazing and horrible things my cat can do.  And you can laugh, realizing that much of my cat’s personality is influenced by and filtered through me, and you can be thankful with me that He made cats and that I get to have one.

This morning, after being wound up all day yesterday, Angel woke me at 7:29 a.m.  Her normal time is between 6 and 6:15.  Instead of a poke to the nose or a jump or a bite to wake me up, she snuggled up to me and made a funky cat noise.  It was so unexpected, being awakened gently for once, that I got up immediately to reward this behavior.  I was thrilled to be loved by the silly little cat.  And I wondered, who’s training who here?