My thoughts on Cats: “Don’t touch my tail”

Well, well, well, you probably didn’t see this one coming for my inaugural blog post. So, surprise!

Now, hold onto your whiskers. I’ve been contemplating cats – and not just because they rule the internet. You see, back in Nigeria, my homeland, cats get a rather dramatic reputation. They’re slapped with labels like “evil,” “witches,” even “demons.” And that always ruffled my fur, metaphorically speaking.

So, in a move that would make my ancestors raise an eyebrow, I adopted a cat upon getting my condo. Not just any cat, mind you, but a black cat, the feline equivalent of a leather jacket in a church.

                                                       

I once immersed myself in “A Black Cat” by Edgar Allen Poe, and it was a spiritual roller coaster. That tale pushed me to investigate cats beyond their meme-worthy moments, both physically and spiritually. Risky business, I know. My family back home probably thinks I’ve grown a third eye, but hey, curiosity didn’t only kill the cat.

Now, a year into my feline experiment, I’ve studied my cat like she’s some Ivy League curriculum. I jotted down notes, hypothesized, and admittedly, procrastinated on work while being utterly engrossed in her antics. My groundbreaking revelation? Most Nigerians, even cat owners, don’t truly ‘get’ cats.

Cats are like fluffy, purring love sponges. I’ve always believed that the universe is fueled by love (more on that in another post). While I’ve battled to understand love, my cat seems to have a PhD in it. She’s taught me the ABCs of affection, from a tender touch to a soul-piercing gaze. She’s love personified – or should I say, cat-ified?

Her zen-like calmness could put a Buddhist monk to shame. Sure, I expected a tiny fur tornado shredding my furniture (a price I was willing to pay), but instead, she’s been serenity incarnate. And while we often just laze around radiating love vibes, don’t be fooled – she’s got a feisty side that could give mine a run for its money.

Her assertiveness? On point! Cross her boundaries and you’ll get a swift feline memo (read: scratch or bite). And I’ve learned to respect that. It’s her gentle way of teaching me the meaning of consent and boundaries.

What truly melted my heart was her trust. The way she flops and exposes her belly, it’s clear she’s got zero fears of me turning her into a stew or a snazzy purse. It’s ironic, given that many humans might get jittery with a black man like me around. But not her; she’s a beacon of trust and it’s truly heartwarming.

She’s also my life guru. Failed jump? No biggie. She picks herself up, swishes her tail, and moves on. A lesson in resilience wrapped in fur.

And speaking of healing, my furry therapist has been pivotal. I have endured a lot of traumatic experiences and although I have healed and come out on the other side, I still have some scars by way of emotional disregulation. Do you want to know what cured this completely? My cat. Her calmness when she is resting on my thighs or on my chest as we both lay down has been the biggest stress reliever in my life and her perfectly engineered nervous system just helps calm mine down and now we are both regulated

Through life’s storms, her calming purrs and cuddles have been my anchor. When life’s woes get to me, a single glance at her unbothered demeanor makes me think, “If she can chill, so can I.”

And here’s a quirky tidbit for you: I believe the universe has a soft spot for cats. Ever wonder about the downfall of the mighty Egyptian empire? My (whisker) theory is that it began when they turned on their beloved cats and began killing them in large numbers. But hey, don’t quote me on that!

So, yes, the universe might be smitten with cats. And after a year with mine, I can confidently say: so am I.