Leave my pussy out of it

Now before you get too excited, I should mention that I'm talking about the furry, four-legged kind, not the kind that may or may not be furry, depending on the preferences of the various parties interested in its well-being.

My policy used to be: love me, love my cat. I've mellowed a bit over the years, having come to realize that if I require my man to love my cat as much as I do, I might very well be snuggling with Fluffy, and Fluffy alone, for a very, very long time. So, I've become a bit more flexible: he must be willing to tolerate the cat, and then it's up to the cat to work her feline wiles on him. God forbid I fall love with someone who is allergic to cats. That's okay though, I guess they have shots for those kinds of things.

I realized that my enthusiasm for my cats was probably a bit too much when a guy I went out changed his online profile, following a few conversations with me.** Now, as far as I remember, the only thing I found wrong with this guy (other than the fact that he never called me back after the second date) was that he wasn't fond of felines. The next time I checked up on him(not that I would ever, ever do such a thing), his profile had been changed to announce the following:

Gillar: segling, fiske,Discovery Channel, min iPod
Gillar mindre: katter, feta tatuerade engelsmän, smala scooterälskande tyskar, schlagermusik

Translation for the Swedish-impaired
Likes: sailing, fish, Discovery Channel, my iPod
Likes less: cats, fat tattooed Englishmen, thin scooter-loving Germans, schlager music

(condensed version)

Now, I'm not sure that putting cats into the same category as "fat tattooed Englishmen" or "schlager music" is entirely fair, but that is neither here, nor there.

The point was that I decided that maybe I should tone down my pro-feline politics for awhile, at least until I get to know the guy a little bit better.

That said: IF YOU WANT TO DATE A GIRL, IT'S PROBABLY NOT A GOOD IDEA TO SAY, OR EVEN HINT AT, ANYTHING NEGATIVE ABOUT HER CAT.

That's akin to telling a mother that her child is ugly. I don't care if the cat is ugly (i.e. one of those hairless Sphynx cats, like Mr. Bigglesworth, who appeared as Dr. Evil's sidekick on Austin Powers), its a very good time for a case of "the cat's got your tongue." In other words, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

Now my cat, who shall be known on these pages as Fluffy, so as to protect his identity, lives with my mother, somewhere in the middle of the continental United States. Since I can't have him with me, I comfort myself with his image. Sometimes I use his likeness as my avatar on MSN. The other day, I was chatting with an American ex-pat I went out with once, two weeks ago, when he asked me: "Is that cat as evil as it looks?"

Ummm, excuse me? There is nothing evil about my cat. Fluffy happens to be the cutest cat in the world, and I don't just say that because he is my cat. And I know you would agree with me if you saw his picture too.

I digress. The point is: DON'T INSULT THE CAT!

I took such a long while to respond, that he finally wrote, "You're mad about the cat, aren't you?"

Ummm, yeah. So this guy might be stupid, but at least he's not a total idiot. After all, he does have a PhD from Stanford.

"Okay, okay, I take it back. You usually have such a good sense of humor. If it makes you feel better, you can insult my dog and we'll call it even."

Now why would insulting his dog make me feel better about him insulting my cat? I just don't get it.

I finally told him that I would let it go this one time, but not to let it happen ever again.

When I cancelled a coffee date the next week because I had to work late, his response by SMS was, "It's still about the cat, isn't it?"

Come to think of it, yes, it is. It's always about the cat.

** Once again, I found advice på svenska hos Fröken J here. Cat lovers should heed these wise words.