"Wook at the kitttty.....She's soooo pah-wettty." My friend Harry has become a cat-lover, and I am mortified.
I should back up and give you the history. I have always had cats. In my youth, we once had two female cats, a mother and daughter, give birth to kittens in the same month, giving us--briefly--a total of twelve cats. During a neighborhood yard sale, my Dad put the kittens in a big basket with an impressive sign stating "FREE KITTENS", with something witty like "GUARANTEED TO BE CUTE AND CUDDLY." I think we gave away all but one of the kittens that day.
When I got married, my wife and I went out a got a cat within a few months. We've had a collection of felines over the years, often named after our favorite sporting heroes. At the moment, we have one cat, who often behaves more like a dog.
My friend Harry and his wife Constance (you can call her Connie, but don't call her Coonie), rented a half of a duplex just up the street from our first rental. We went to the same church, ended up in the same home group bible study, have kids close the same ages, and have become the best of friends.
Harry and I shared a love of Pabst Blue Ribbon in these early days, before our taste buds matured. We would scrounge up a few dollars together, walk up the street to the carry-out, pick up a six-pack of tall boys, and hang out at my place playing computer games, often staying up way too late for a weeknight. Harry would sneeze the entire time he was at my house, his eyes would water, and he would frequently complain how much he hated my "(expletive) cats."
Harry is a salesman extrordinare who grew up primarily in the Midwest but with both Parents (and all extended family) coming from the relatively deep South. He's a hunter, fisherman, and generally speaking, a man's man, always with incredible hunting dogs--NOT a cat guy. In my own defense, my interest in pets has dwindled over the years, maybe something to do with having kids.
A few months ago he and Connie (who also still claims to be allergic to cats) took in an injured stray. I was in disbelief for weeks after they told us, until I saw the shaved and now being gently nursed back to health femme fatale, that somehow appeared to win their hearts after years of cat-hatred.
For the first few weeks they would ask, "Do you want another cat? She's awesome and very pretty." After a while, they stopped asking. She's clearly a member of their family now, even putting the dogs in their rightful place.
Sitting at Harry's place last week, having a beer and watching a game, as he makes goo-goo eyes at the cat and does his best baby talk voice when she enters the room, I can only conclude that he's now in touch with his 'feline'-side. "There she is! Helwo you sweet widdle girl"....
