I'm no animal lover. I admit it. I'm not the kind of guy who'll stop in the middle of his run to pat a "cute" dog. Actually, most of the time, I'm not even sure there's any such thing as a cute dog. Unless your definition of "cute" is actually a bit dim, smelly and a tendency to drool inappropriately. Like I say, not really an animal lover.
But that doesn't mean I'd cross the road to kick one either. In fact, I wouldn't even cross the road to avoid one - imagine the time that'd add onto my run. I'm reasonably fit, but I'm not Superman. I can't be deviating off course at the sight of an out-of-control chihuahua - I'd never make it home.
So let's just say, I'm not a dog person. Does that then mean I'm automatically a cat person? Not if my relationship with our cat is anything to go by.
She seemed like such a normal kitten. Soft. Trusting. Playful. You know, all that usual shit. But somewhere along the line, she decided I was the enemy, to be avoided at all costs.
She'll do tricks for one daughter. She'll play stupid games with the other. And as for the Domestic Manager, come snuggle-on-the-couch time, suddenly there's only one lap in town. Do I get any love? Do I get a bundle of purring fluff on my lap? Nup. Not so much as a sideways glance.
It's like someone spread a rumour about me in catland - as though word's got out I'm some kind of devil-worshiping puss-sacrificer. (I'm not, by the way. As religions go, that one sounds a bit high maintenance to me)
I've simply been ostracised. By the cat anyway, The rest of the household just thinks it's funny. I've tried feeding her treats. being the first one to let her in out of the cold. I even rolled around on the floor the other night, making non-threatening cat noises. That got a pretty good laugh too.
So I give up now. Maybe one day I'll get my own cat who'll love me for who I am. Sadly, in this case, a bit like Tom and Katie, there are obviously irreconcilable differences. She just hasn't told me what they are.
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