Laurie from Posts from the Playground offered to guest post on my blog, and I was all "oh hell yeah!". Well, I probably didn't swear like that, cause I don't know her that well, but I did read that she deals drugs at the park, so don't think I need to worry too much about my language. Anyway, Laurie is part of the Philly Mom Bloggers group, so that alone tells me she rocks. Check her out!
My cat Stuart is jealous of Michael Phelps
Hi, everyone. I’m over here from the playground today to fill in for my new blog buddy, Kristine. I wasn’t entirely sure what to write about until I saw Kristine’s cat post the other day and then immediately I knew. I had to tell the world about my cat’s obsession/jealously of Michael Phelps, most decorated Olympian, who has won eight gold medals this Olympics for swimming.
To all of you dog lovers out there who don’t believe that cats can be equally good companions, I say psshaw. I never really actually say psshaw, but in this instance, it is the only right thing to say.
Enter stage left, my cat Stuart. He is a white with cream-colored markings Asian shorthaired cat. He has blue eyes. One time when we were at Walt Disney World, about eight years ago, a man offered me his seat on a bus to the park. I was pregnant at the time and holding my two-year-old son, Ethan, on my lap. The man sitting next to us kindly asked Ethan if he was excited to see Mickey Mouse? He replied flatly, I had a dream that my cat Stuart had no eyes. This really has nothing to do with his issues of jealousy regarding Michael Phelps, but every time I mention Stuart’s eyes, I feel compelled to tell this story.
Anyway, Stuart is every bit the companion a dog is. He follows me around the house. He curls up in bed with me. He meows when we return home to let us know that he is glad to see us, and since the Olympics have been on, he has every night nuzzled on the couch next to me to watch. He stares intently at the t.v.
One night, when Mr. Phelps was winning his sixth or seventh gold medal, whichever one was the close call that was contested, I saw in Stuart’s eyes a strange look. "What’s wrong, Stu?" I asked him calmly.
Stuart and I communicate. I am the only one in the house that he confides in, and I can’t say that I really blame him, as no one else believes that he can, in fact, talk.
"I want to be an Olympic swimmer", he tells me. I interpret his language for the kids and my husband. At first, no one speaks, and then Ethan says, "Cats hate water."
Stuart, who honest to God taught himself to go pee on the potty, a la Mr. Jinx from Meet The Parents (no, he can not flush- cats have their limits you know) tells me he is not threatened by the water. He can see himself as a swimmer. He believes he can win eight gold medals. He wants to know what Michael Phelps has that he doesn’t? He asks Daddy for swimming lessons and a coach.
My husband Matt refuses to answer him. It can be a very cruel world, I tell him. My kids prove this by saying, "Mom you are crazy."
Of course, I don’t listen to them. I tell him, Stuart I believe in you. If you want to be like Michael Phelps, not only do you have my full support, but also I believe that you can do anything that you set your mind to. Cats are amazing creatures. See you in London in 2012! P.S. Does anyone know where I can get an extra small bathing cap with ear holes?