Two Cats For The Price of One

Since over at M2M it's been all, new dog this and cute puppy that!, I figure it's time for a balanced opinion.

I like cats better than dogs. It's true! Most people I know find this odd but it's the truth. Growing up we always had a dog. We did get a couple of cats when I was in high school but they were outside cats so we didn't get to see them as much. Maybe that's why I grew up with a preference to cats. You always want what you don't have, right?

But now, cats just seem more logical to me as a pet. Dogs slobber. Dogs are always jumping all over people. Some dogs can be damn loud. A friend of mine has a dog with an absolutely eardrum-rupturing bark. No matter how clean people keep their dogs, it seems that if you spend a couple of minutes petting it your hands always end up smelling like...well, dog. Even clean dogs have a dog smell.

Cats, on the other hand, are much quieter than dogs. They are cleaner than dogs. They require almost no training as to where they are supposed to do their business. They don't smell. If you don't neglect the litter box, it won't smell either.

Really, though. Is it any surprise to anyone that I prefer a pet that is generally aloof and a loner? It really shouldn't.

So 7 years ago I moved out of a house I had been sharing with several friends and into my own apartment. And I decided to get a cat. The process of obtaining a cat is a lot less stressful than getting a dog. People getting dogs obsess over the breed and size and etc. Is this breed good with kids? Is this breed going to end up the size of a horse? Is there a chance that this breed is going to one day decide to use one of the neighbors as a chew toy? When someone decides to get a cat, usually what you do is just find someone whose cat just had kittens and they give you one. Boom, you've got a cat.

So that's what I did. A coworker's cat had just had kittens so I took one pretty much right after he was weened. Because my favorite comic was and still is Calvin and Hobbes, it was only natural that he be named Hobbes. And in those 7 years, this


has turned into this.


Believe me, that second picture does not properly illustrate how stupidly big he has become. He is a beast.

The reason I'm posting about him now is that he just yesterday arrived at the new house to live with me. He got here at about 3:30 or so and promptly went under the couch and didn't come out until 12:30 am. You see, for the last two years, I've been living with a roommate that is allergic to cats. So Hobbes has been living with my parents. Now that I'm alone, however, my parents felt it was time to transfer ownership back to me and so here he is.

Now, the thing that I have learned after owning him is that while I prefer cats over dogs, I prefer having NO pets over both. I think that this will be the last pet I ever own. It's not that he's a bad pet. He's even pretty amusing sometimes. The problem with him is his HAIR. HAIR EVERYWHERE! This is why I don't want a pet ever again. Who knows what mix of breeds Hobbes is but it is clear that he is closer to a long-haired breed than a short-haired one. I even bought one of these in anticipation of his arrival. They're supposed to be great at reducing shedding. So once Hobbes adjusted to the new house and decided to come out from under the couch, I took him into the kitchen and used it on him. For like, 20 minutes. This is what I ended up with last night.

Seriously! Look at all that! I used the damn thing on him again this morning for about 10 minutes and got another pile about a third of the size of that one. It shows no signs of stopping! I've removed enough hair from this little bastard to create another cat! I'm eventually going to have a completely naked cat, right? That is a ridiculous amount of hair.

I suppose I'll keep using it on him daily for the next couple of weeks and hope that it slows down. But I can see I'm going to be vacuuming this place a lot more often than I would have to otherwise.

But honestly, I'm fine with having him. He is amusing at times. He spent the night by my feet under the blanket. My house is near the airport and I think the airplane noises might be freaking him out a little. At one point this morning I kicked him out and he looked at me like WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, GET ME KILLED? and immediately burrowed right back under there.

So there he is. Meet Mr. Hobbes. This will be the last time (probably) I post about him. Be grateful.