When I started this blog I couldn’t decide what to name it. I had several names in mind, none of which I can remember now. I only remember that all of them were taken. I eventually settled on Crazy Cat Chris and registered it at WordPress.com.
Almost immediately I realized that I made a mistake. Chris was not a crazy cat. I think I just liked it because all the words started with C. I then choose Bad Cat Chris but the truth is, Chris is no more bad then he is crazy. The “bad” in Bad Cat Chris only refers to his behavior, not to Chris himself, and it really only refers to the human interpretation of the word “bad.” What is bad to a human is not necessarily bad to a cat. Like Shakespeare said, “there is no good or bad but thinking makes it so.”
The first several months after we adopted Chris, he kept us from getting a good night’s sleep by attacking our feet, biting our noses, treading on our bare skin and lying across our necks. BAD CAT! Indeed, the people who adopted him before us thought he was a bad cat and returned him to the shelter after one day.
He no longer attacks feet and he has learned not to bite Rose’s nose but everything else is the same. Jumping on counters is another “bad” behavior that we were never able to correct. Nor were we able to stop him from opening cabinets and closets and getting inside. At eight years old he still tries to get out the door every chance he gets and he still scratches the furniture, but only when he knows someone is looking.
Despite his behavior, I wouldn’t want him to change because that is who Chris is. He has always been very entertaining and he makes us laugh. His bad behavior is not really bad, it’s more like naughty, and even that’s not right. He is just a non-human who is very good at not following human rules.
There is something special about Chris, more special than any other dog or cat I have ever had, and I have had some good ones. Chris is pure love. He loves me, he loves Rose he loves everyone who steps foot in our house and he is not afraid to show it. He bleeds affection. Everybody who knows Chris loves him back.
He is even affectionate to all the other cats, although he will fight with them too.
Rose worries that when we lose Chris I will be devastated and she may be right. I think about that more now that Chris will be turning eight. The last three of our cats that passed away, Abbey, Alex and Tigger, all died at eight years old. But, of course, now is not the time to be thinking such thoughts. We have a birthday coming up.