I wish my cats would get more excited when I come home.
I was gone this past weekend at my parents’ house for their birthdays, which are on the same day (freaky, I know). Though my cats had been abandoned for exactly 52 hours with nothing but food, water, and secret catnip areas scattered around the apartment, they remained unaffected.
Don’t get me wrong; part of me is stoked that my cats aren’t needy or high-maintenance and that I can have the freedom to head out for a weekend without them needing therapy. But once in a while, I’d like to feel appreciated.
I mean, the first thing I did when I got home was cuddle up on the couch and try to get my cats to come take advantage of an available human. But they just sat there, staring at me and acting all superior.
My cats give me an inferiority complex.
Maybe they were just really into the cat grass I brought home. My parents’ cat is unamused by it (and everything else in life) so I got it as a hand-me-down. I thought it would make a nice consolation prize for Spring, given that they can’t go outside to calm the firey lust in their loins this season.
Gross.
Come to think of it, a small patch of grass is more like a sick joke than a consolation prize. It’s like I brought a sample of the outdoors to them so they could truly know what they’re missing. How terrible, the life of an indoor house cat.
There is nothing worse than hearing the weak, sad mew of my male cat as he stares longly out the window at his fading sexual prowess.
Sometimes I feel so bad about it that I put him on a makeshift leash and take him for a walk. Yes, I walk my cat. We never really get very far. I always think he wants to do out there to get busy, but he really just wants to flop belly up in the sunshine and gnaw on grass.
Maybe I can just situate a section of sunlight to shine into the living room and then put the container of cat grass beside it. I can attempt to recreate his ideal environment. Yeah – I’ll go ahead and take one more step down the steep, rocky precipice that leads to an induction to the Crazy Cat Lady Society.
Maybe then my cats will recognize my efforts and actually freaking greet me when I come back from a weekend away. ♣
Hobbes, suffering from sexlessness.
The Jackie Blog 
Um, I would actually like to respectfully disagree.
Because the alternative is your cat(s) showing their appreciation in ways you wouldn’t like, as per my most recent post:
http://paulbeforeswine.wordpress.com/2011/04/18/the-bird-is-the-word/
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Enjoyed the post 🙂 And you’re spot on – I have no desire for dead animals of any kind.
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I think, in this case, it’s just your cat being your cat. They’re quirky like that. My tomcat sort of greets me by the door when I get home, but I think it’s because he just wants a belly rub.
Similar to paul’s response below, my other cat did the same. She used to bring me live birds too.
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ew. I’ll take being ignored.
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