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T A B L E++T A L K

Which are easier to raise: boys or girls? Pick a gender in the Mothers area of Table Talk

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R E C E N T L Y

A mom's guide to college admissions
By Teri Rosen
A mom survives college application hell
(01/30/98)
plus:
Parents, keep out!
By Ted Sutton
Humiliating situations inflicted upon college applicants by well-meaning but inept parents
(01/30/98)

Pool of memories
By Grayson Hurst Daughters
A granddaughter reflects on the pain of getting old and missing the grandmother who didn't
(01/29/98)

Spice of Life
By Chitra Divakaruni
My fictional children
(01/28/98)

"Mama, you're Old Spice!"
By Ariel Gore
Spice Girls, aka the anti-Christ
(01/27/98)

Femmes fatales
By Margaret Talbot
Are women more violent than men?
(01/26/98)

ARCHIVES

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Mamafesto
By Camille Peri
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

TIME FOR ONE THING: A CAT | PAGE 2 OF 2

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As summer approached, we had to make a decision. It seemed to hinge on what I felt. Was I going to remain obstinately a dog person and deny the kitten a place in our family, blaming my long-standing yet inconclusively diagnosed allergies? Was I going to remain a dog person yet allow the kitten in anyway? Or was I going to welcome the kitten and seek the cat person within? Meanwhile, our neighbor had invited another family to choose among the kittens, and our daughter was worrying over the possibility of their selecting the all-black one, the one she wanted with her whole heart. For an hour or two of an early summer evening, the dramatic tension was palpable. Finally, with my husband's assurance that I would have no responsibility for the litter box, I allowed that adopting the kitten was fine by me.

Now I find that a cat is a perfect pet, indeed a perfect animal. Velvet is sweet-tempered, of course, and that makes a big difference. But it's her cattiness that I admire most. She knows how to make herself comfortable and does so whenever she can. She lets you know she wants to be alone by leaving you alone. She plays with simple things like string and crinkly candy wrappers. She shows her affection freely by purring and cuddling. She travels well in a plain box lined with a towel. She eats what you set before her but is grateful to lick the interior of an emptied tuna can. She's flexible. She displays personal dignity. In short, she sets a good example for the children.

If I am reading in a chair Velvet will jump onto my lap and fall asleep, her warm heavy weight nestling just the right way to make me feel at peace with the world. It's kind of like the weight of a sleeping newborn, but without any of the angst that attaches to that experience. A cat won't catch a chill. A cat won't develop bad sleeping habits from being held through a nap. A cat won't have an explosive bowel movement all over your arm. A sneeze won't wake a cat, and even if it does, so what? A cat's just there for the moment, warm and alive and taking a nap. It can always go back to sleep someplace else.

Before dashing out to the nearest shelter, however, any prospective cat owners ought to seek the counsel of an experienced and reasonably objective cat person. Our neighbor, for example, had assured us that Velvet was in fact as sweet and intelligent as our daughter had intuited. Other cat people who have visited are equally amazed at her good nature. A dyed-in-the-wool cat person may not care about traits like gentleness, disinclination to scratch, etc. To them, all cats are great in their own way. The rest of us ought to steer clear of the less-than-ideal representative.

And what of the borders between people, the definitive labels that keep straight who's who? Do I now think of myself as a cat person? Have I crossed the line away from my decades-long association with and empathy for the dog people? The rompers, the panters, the so-glad-to-be-alive gang? Probably not. But perhaps, thanks to Velvet, I feel a little less a dog person, a little more complicated. I'm trying to make peace with mystery, to make room for grace. Pets make you own up in any number of ways, and I am happy and proud to be the owner of this particular cat. It's very nice to feel a kind of thrill when I hold her up against my cheek, stroke her soft clean fur and hear her purr. If nothing else, cats are certainly sexier than dogs, and in this way they set a good example for a mother.
SALON | Feb. 2, 1998

Inda Schaenen is a regular contributor to Salon.