I Have A Problem

How is a cat this cute?

So here’s something interesting/sad I noticed the other day. I think I’ve become one of those crazy pet owners that everybody hates.

See, here's the thing about owning pets. Every pet parent thinks that his/her pets are undeniably the sweetest, cutest, most intelligent pets on the planet. They're definitely better than everybody else’s pets. So we can’t tolerate it when anybody says anything that might possibly imply that their pets are better than our pets. This includes most stories that other people want to tell you about their pets. I can usually tolerate the occasional lighthearted tale, as long as it’s about a pet that’s a very different species from any of my own. I also don’t mind a photo or video of a cute/smart/extraordinary pet that I find on the Internet, because these pets don’t have enough of a personal connection to me to be a real threat in the contest of “best pet ever.” Maru, kitties on treadmills, a hamster with its mouth full of carrot- this is entertainment. It’s different. But no pet owner, myself included, ever wants to hear another person tell a story that either implies or states straight-up that the other person’s pet is any sort of superlative.

I’ve known this to be true for some time. I know that no one likes to hear stories about my cats. Even other cat lovers don’t like to hear stories about my cats. This is due to the reasons listed above. So most of the time, I try to keep my mouth shut when the opportunity arises in a conversation for me to steer it toward my pets. Of course, I mess up sometimes when I trick myself into believing that the other person in the conversation actually does want to hear about how smart and outgoing my guinea pig is. But then I realize that the other person is only keeping quiet long enough to satisfy me so she can then tell her own story about how sweet and personable her African grey parrot is to her, but no one else, and then I have to tell another one about how my guinea pig and my rabbit live together and how it’s pretty much the cutest thing ever, because I can’t let the conversation end with her pet story. If I let that happen, then I might as well be admitting that yeah, she’s right, her pet is better than mine. And I’m sorry, but that’s just not true. (It’s never true, no matter who I’m—oops. I’m doing it again.)

My point is that usually I’m able to exhibit some sense of self control. I’m pretty good when it comes to talking about my pets. Or, at least, I thought I was. Then I began to notice how often I posted photos/statuses/anecdotes about my cats to Facebook. I realized that, when I’d go visit my parents and their cats, which were also my cats growing up, I’d be unable to keep myself from countering one of my mom’s cat stories with one of my own. Hell, I couldn’t even look at my Ollie, my mom’s black cat, without thinking, “My black cat is so much better than you are, dude.” I’d even begun to do this thing that, when someone asked me how I was doing or how my weekend was, I’d reply in terms of my cats. “What’s new?” “Oh, not much. Flan lost her favorite Mousie today, but she sat in front of the entertainment center and stared under it, to tell me something was wrong, until I came and got it out for her. Isn’t she so smart?” I went from biting my tongue in situations where it would actually be appropriate to talk about my cats, like at Petsmart, to rambling about Bug’s ability to fetch bottle caps to my workmates, both of whom hate cats.

Since I’ve realized this, I’ve been trying to cut back. Instead of telling all of Facebook how Flan and Bug haven’t left my lap since the weather got colder, I’ll just think to myself how sweet it is and then move on with my life. But overall, I’m still having a difficult time restraining myself.

My biggest weakness is when someone tells me a pet story first. I just can’t ever seem to be able to hold my tongue. This is particularly problematic because my volunteer position at the cat adoption center in the South Philly Petsmart provides me with a constant influx of pet lovers who want to come in, pet the pretty kitties, and tell me about how much better their cats are than these cats. And I, knowing of course that my cats are better than both the cats in the center and the customers’ cats, just can’t pass up the opportunity. Your cat loves to be held just like this one I’m holding? Well, my cat, Bug—wait, let me show you a picture of her on my phone—literally begs to be picked up every day when I get home from work. And she loves to ride around on my shoulders. You had a cat and a dog once who were best friends? Well, my rabbit, Dexter—no, not like the serial killer, I just like the name—loves my one cat so much that he tries to hump her all the time. And he lives with a guinea pig who’s his best friend. And one time, when I tried to separate them, Dexter was so visibly depressed in his new, roomy cage that I had to put them back together after three days.

It’s like a disease. I can’t stop myself. It’s just that I know that my cats are so much better than everyone else’s that I can’t help but tell them, no matter how much it pisses them off. I mean, I don’t really see how anyone could have better pets than my pets. Seriously. Find me a cat who’s more in love with her owners than Bug. Find me a cat who’s sweeter than Flan. Show me a guinea pig with more personality than Ted. And find me a crested gecko with a better smile than Stryker’s.

Actually, you know what? Don’t even waste your time trying. Even if you are somehow able to prove that your pet is better than my pet, it’s not like I’ll believe you. Maybe it’s because I’m just another crazy pet owner like you. Or maybe it’s because I’m right, and my pets really are the best pets in the world.

I’m leaning toward the latter.

Seriously, how can you stay mad at those eyes?