Loving Animals More Than Humans

This blog post was inspired by Sarah Silverman’s comedy special We Are Miracles in which she says – amidst a bunch of other awesome, off-the-wall things – something about the fact that if Africa were a land full of stray labradoodles, our desire to care for and/or help its inhabitants would be way higher.

Loving Animals More Than Humans | TheFurFiles

And she’s probably right. Weird-looking, curly haired dogs, big fluffy, pushed-in-face cats, iguanas, gerbils (though this one, I just don’t understand) – we love our pets, often more than we love humans, it seems. My aunt tells me this in every email she sends – people suck/animals are so much better.

Her “I’ve been burned one too many times” bias aside, I believe there are lots of people who feel this way. The question is why? Why would we care about animals more than we care about our own species? Is it because we see animals as helpless creatures, driven to build a life in a contaminated world of chaos, concrete, and poison? I know that’s being overly-dramatic, but it’s the truth. The poor raccoons have nowhere to go, and then we get pissed off when they set up camp in our attics. Is it because we think humans should just know better, and that if we suffer, it’s our own damn fault? Well, we should, and it is.

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When Pets Get A Little Too Close

If you don’t already know this, I love cats. I mean, I REALLY love them. In the hierarchy of love that I have for things in this world – and this is how my husband sees it – it goes kids/cats, working out, HGTV, clothes, shoes (to be differentiated from clothes), new furniture, ice cream, The Bachelorette/Sister Wives (I’m addicted to both), open windows and doors, and my husband. Yes, he can play that “pathetic martyr” card sometimes. Break out the tiny violin.

Out of all of my cats, there have been a few over the years with whom I’ve really connected too. At the present moment, it’s Lionel. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my furry babies, but Lionel – oh, Lionel – he and I have a special bond. I knew it from the moment I saw his picture on Kijiji, his little paw just reaching out to me through the computer screen.

When Pets Get A Little Too Close | TheFurFiles

He was sweet when he was a baby, and he’s only gotten sweeter, and better looking, and smarter. OK, maybe not smarter – he spends a lot of time chasing his own tail – but he’s very charming and loving and EXTREMELY handsome. His eyes get me every single time. It’s like looking at the cat version of Johnny Depp and Colin Farrell combined – uber hypnotic.

The best part about him – as much as I love him, he loves me back even more. He just wants to be with me all the time. He’s like my shadow. Everywhere I go, he goes.

When I’m writing my blog, he sits on my lap, purring away to beat the band. When I work out – if I’m home – he comes with me downstairs. Every night, when I have a bath, he sits precariously at the edge of the tub waiting for me to finish. When I sleep, he snuggles with me under the covers, his head nuzzled against my side, his claws kneading emphatically in and out of my husband’s bare flesh, which – I tell my husband – is what he gets for sleeping naked.

Lionel is ALWAYS there. Thus, it is not uncommon for him to be there when my husband and I want to get “romantic” as well.

At times like this, my husband says, “Can you get that damn cat out of here. He’s giving me the creeps.”

“Why?” I say. “He’s fine.”

“He’s NOT fine. He’s looking at me. It’s like he’s jealous.”

When Pets Get A Little Too Close | TheFurFiles

“You’re being silly. He’s just sitting there, probably dreaming of bugs and birds and catfood.”

“No, he’s probably dreaming about clawing me in the penis while I sleep. Just get him out of here.”

Begrudgingly, I shoo my little angel out. And I’m not saying that I proceed by imagining that my husband has whiskers and a cute white muzzle or anything, but…

Just kidding. I dream about him having a really long tail. Thank goodness my husband has something like that. 😉