Blind Date with Emily ...
Two or three things I know about her: she is self-confident, has long hair and green eyes. If we like each other, she will go with me. And if not? Twice we already had a date. The first time a blizzard intervened, the second time another disaster. But now. I'm excited. I would like to live with her for the next 15 years.
The woman I responded to says, "She's in the kitchen." I had not imagined it so beautiful in my dream. She pretends she does not care about me. She gets up from her chair, runs teasingly through the kitchen and jumps onto the windowsill. I think: I want you, I want you, but I do not overwhelm you with my passion. No crawling, no stupid "oh sweetie". She looks at me arrogantly. I like to do that too, when I'm unsure.
When we arrive home, she flits under the wardrobe. There she stays. My husband and I are lying on the ground and want to make friends. No chance. In the evening we drink champagne and agree on the name Emily. Emily remains invisible. I had imagined love easier.
Emily convinces every cat-hater of the opposite.
After a week, Emily is tired of her hiding place but on us. We can pet her, she makes us realize that she likes tuna and not kidneys. And all please only from the cans with the funny advertising. The other variety would have been cheaper. After a month, Emily, who is about six months and a perfect mix of domestic and Persian, thinks about whether she would rather be a dog. She runs after small balls, retrieves paper balls and starts with the discipline high jump. We have to, oh well, we're allowed to throw up balls of silver paper and Emily picks them up in the air. We throw the balls higher and higher. Emily is jumping higher and higher. Then she can not do it anymore. We encourage them just as parents encourage their child. But now Emily is tired of the game. She looks at us as if she thinks: how embarrassing these people are. In fact, she does not want to be watched for failure. I also have to try this tactic. to let?!
I find my cat the most beautiful, most elegant, best and whatever comes to mind superlatives. I tell all those who (not always) want to hear what made Emily wonderful again today and yesterday. People who do not have animals find it annoying. Naturally. All these qualities that one attaches to an animal, nonsense. But Emily convinces every cat-hater of the opposite. She jumps on the lap of a friend, who fears fur on four legs, on the first visit and looks at him so calmly until his fear passes. (Today he has a cat himself.) She behaves exemplary when we deliver her on holiday with a girlfriend who has a hangover, for temporary sublease. Once we're out the door, she growls at the head tenant cat Scary? Have you ever seen a Persian cat with a raised coat? ? and eats his bowl empty. And if we pick her up after a week, she punishes us for three days with love withdrawal. How could you starve me in this ugly hangover?
Cats do not do things by halves, I find that impressive. If I want to cuddle with her against her will, she'll leave me cold-blooded. If she wants to cuddle with me against my will, she jumps on my desk and purrs on the newspaper, the book, or the papers I'm working on. In times when I was still knitting, she used the ball of wool mercilessly as a ball, so I finally deal with her instead of knitting needles. So much recklessness would I resent a man very much. In my cat I interpret it as a successful seduction and willpower. Real willpower only becomes visible in crises. The crisis comes three years later.
The cat of my life is standing in front of the bed.
I move to another city, my husband stays with Emily. We have a long distance relationship. Not really to purr, the whole thing. Then my husband has a girlfriend who moves in with Emily and does not like Emily. I come to visit and sleep in the bed where I always slept. In the old days, Emily was allowed to cuddle in my bed. So I'm lying there, the cat of my life is standing in front of the bed. I would so much like her to come to me. Emily looks at the bed and me. She does not know what to do. Previously, the bed and mum were good. Today the bed and another mistress are prohibited. Emily wants so much and should not get used to it again. The same thing happened to me. Can I encourage you to come to me? Or is it much worse for her when I'm gone and she's not allowed to go to bed? I leave the decision to the four-legged love of my life.She solves the drama of the gifted cat cleverly and realistically. She looks at me for a long time and with a mischievous smile and then she leaves. I am in comparable situations? Should I or should not I? ? already much immature behavior. It's quite possible that we both cried a little bit separately that night, so I say.
A few months later, I found a decent flat in the other city and brought Emily to me. She was so fond of peeing on the car seats in the long, hated car ride. But at a rest stop she fled the car, I got the shock of my life. Whether it was love or fear of the loud cars on the highway, I do not know. At any rate, she let me capture her again.
We lived happily together for nine years. With changing rubber sounds for her, with constant male partner for me, with cat grass on the windowsill and cat hair everywhere. I kept her paw at the vet when she had to pull a claw under general anesthesia. She panicked when I was lying in bed clattering after a circulatory collapse. Then she played the nurse, lay down on me, warmed me up and snarled so loud that I had no choice but to recover.
One day she became seriously ill. Emily died after surgery. I cried how to cry then. Some people said, "Gosh, it was just a cat." Some people are just idiots. It took me nearly two years to stroke another cat. My hands still remembered the feeling of Emily's soft long coat. My hands did not want to feel any other cats. That has changed. But I still do not want a successor for Emily.
