When someone tells you they don’t like cats, you have two options.
You can call the police.
Or you can ask them, “why?” (While dialing the police.)
If you have the grace to remain friends with such lost and tragic persons, you just might learn something. People think they don’t like cats for many reasons, but they are all really the same reason.
They think cats are scary.
People will tell you an orange tabby once bit the nose of their Aunt Mafalda like it was a circus peanut. They will tell you a calico yodeled songs from the underworld when they tried to rub her belly. They will tell you they are still offended by the tortoiseshell they tried to pet in 1994, but who simply walked away.
They are telling you they are scared of cats.
You must not lie to your friends. Yes, it’s true. Cats are scary.
But they say that like it’s a bad thing.
As evidenced by these glorious photographs, cats are only as scary as dignity itself. (I will not penalize you if “dignified” was not the first word these photographs brought to mind.)
Oram is scary because he will let you dress him as a lion, then an hour later say, “no, thank you,” when you offer an armpit massage. He will wallop you with love if you take him on a stroller ride to survey his territory, but then look at you as though you are a Dum Dum pop if you prevent him from escaping into the lobby. He is a lion. Lions do not “escape.”
Gulliver is scary because he makes a fine stegosaurus, but no one will make a fool of him. He wanted to wear this costume. He accepts his mission to make mortals laugh. He carries himself like the Duke of Denmark because he has never made a decision that was not elegant, and he’s not about to start now.
Uni is scary because she knows her worth. Uni is getting scarier all the time, because she feels worthier and worthier the longer she is at Tabby’s Place. Come to think of it, we are in the business of making cats “scary” in this way. Unconditional love makes them strong. When someone is as strong as Uni, she could decide not to need us anymore. Instead, Uni chooses to let us dress her as a little girl.
Smokey is scary because, not only is he the world’s reigning cowpoke, complete with rat rider, but he has also consolidated the powers of joy into a single striped container. No force on earth has ever granted anyone permission to be this happy. No force on earth can ever take this away from Smokey. But if they try, he will dress up as an iridescent snail.
Prescott is scary because she is forgiveness on four legs, and this world does not know how to make sense of that. Her light grey stripes are grace, and her dark grey stripes are mercy. We are not worthy of her, which is why we dressed her in a Build-a-Bear pumpkin. See above, re: forgiveness on four legs.
Chucho is scary because he is naked. Chucho declined the limited-time opportunity to be dressed as a Disney princess or a corn dog. Chucho knows who Chucho is, and Chucho is not a corn dog.
If you do not like cats, you will not like the fact that they always have permission to say “no.” You will find their boundaries as rude as a Necco wafer.
Cats are scary, because cats do not need permission to like themselves.
But I’ll bet that even your misguided friends like Halloween, and this may be your chance to get a tail in their door.
If you are looking for a decorative gourd, docile and predictable, a cat is not for you. If you are looking for a friend who will love you enough to bring their full personality to the pumpkin patch, you may like cats more than you think.
They are goobers and generals.
They are pixies and panthers.
They are treats too honest for trickery.
They are candy corn and cayenne, sometimes in the same bowl.
They are perfect.
They are fully alive, which is the sweetest sort of scary.
Happy Halloween, cats and kittens.