For the first several days, I had thoughts and hopes of idyllic kittens, playful when I wanted to be playful, quiet when I wanted to be quiet, biddable, etc. Of course, I expected there to be a few bumps along the way, but I didn't consider that the cats would each have their own personalities, goals, fears, etc, which mught be different than my own. What was I thinking?
Shadow and I had a bit of spat the other day when she considered herself to be entitled to some of my breakfast. I may consider this differently in time, but for the moment I'm trying to be very careful with their diet. So Shadow was not happy with me. No purrs for me, no soliciting my attention if I wasn't in the kitchen, preferring to play by herself rather than play with me. And I thought of my father - the hopes and dreams he had for me as a kid, and who I turned out to be. I didn't want to play ball with him, I didn't want to see him when he came home, every night it seemed, after my bedtime. I'd hear him come home, I'd know he'd like to see me, but I would turn the light off and pretend to be asleep. Different situations, but the same feeling of rejection. I'd never really considered my father's point of view at any length until prompted to do so by a three month old cat.
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This is why my shrink is such a strong advocate of people having mammals as pets. Dogs and cats have different sensory processing and cognitive powers than we do, but their emotional systems are almost identical. I think the key thing is to give yourself permission to be an animal subject to various drives and needs, the way you give your cats permission to be subject to theirs. This is the kind of thinking that's led me to believe so strongly that nothing is really anyone's fault.
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