This week I have been staying with my sister. She has a new cat.
The new cat’s name is Marple and she is as sweet as pumpkin pie. Her sweetness makes her quite a contrast to my own beastly creature, but that is only the beginning of their differences.
While my cat uses his scratching pole as one of his many pee places (the others being clean laundry baskets, my bed, and any open drawers), Marple uses her scratching pole to… well, scratch. She never tries to escape and she doesn’t bite. Instead of carrying her food to carpeted areas, she eats over her bowl. She never goes out of her way to vomit in shoes.
When I hug or pat her, she purrs. My cat prefers to claw my face.
After only a few days away, I already miss my puss, but I’m beginning to wonder why.
Except, not really. I secretly love my cat’s evil side, because, of course, we understand each other.