On 4/5/2017 8:51 PM, Bastette wrote:
John Kasupski wrote:

My dad always claimed he hated cats...

Despite that, the first time he came over to my house when I had
Charlie (RB), my big Russian Blue, Dad and I were sitting on the
couch and Charlie jumped up at the end Dad was at, intending to walk
across dad's lap to me - but when he got onto Dad's lap, Dad started
scratching him behind his ears. Charlie loved being scratched behind
his ears more than anything else, so as soon as Dad started doing it
he laid down on Dad's lap and squinted his eyes shut and began
purring up a storm - the perfect picture of solid contentment.
Eventually he fell asleep and Dad just sat there on the couch
scratching the sleeping kitty behind the ears for half an hour or
longer. This was 40+ years later, so maybe he mellowed out about cats
as he got older, or maybe he simply discovered that a purring cat
lying in your lap isn't relaxing only to the cat - but he sure made
Charlie happy, and every time Dad came over after that Charlie would
jump up on Dad's lap as soon as Dad sat down and the whole scene was
repeated.

That's adorable! It's funny to see someone who insists they don't like
cats (or any animal) suddenly realizing that hey, they're not so bad.

In my family, there were 4 females (mom, me, and my two sisters), and
my dad. Mom and the 3 of us kids loved cats, and dad was the bad guy.
He never said he hated cats, it's just that, given free reign, we would
have continued to accumulate stray cats indefinitely. Dad used to say,
"One or two cats, or one dog, one cat, that's fine, but I don't want a
houseful of cats." So he would eventually put his foot down and the strays
had to go.

That was when I was growing up. Now, my dad, who lives alone in a house
in Florida, is the Cat Man of his neighborhood. My sister got him a
cat about 12 years ago, and he fell in love with him. (That cat is really
great, I've met him a few times.) Then he got a second cat. Then he started
feeding neighborhood cats who hung out in his yard. Word quickly spread
through the feline community in the area, that free food was to be had at
my dad's house, so more strays. Then there was this cat in the neighborhood
who kept having kittens. She didn't belong to anyone, so nobody did anything
about it until my dad decided to intervene, so he had her spayed.

Last time I visited him, several years ago, I drove up to his house to
find about 6 cats sitting in the yard.

Joyce

Why does this remind me of an old song by Crosby Stills & Nash? "Our
house was a very very fine house, with three cats in the yard..."

That's a wonderful story, Joyce!

My father probably never would have accepted cats. But he did have to
(reluctantly) accept my little dog Sampson. He sort of growled at me
when I moved back while getting divorced - "That dog better not poop on
my lawn". Really? Where do you expect him to poop? Next thing I knew
Dad was playing with the dog in the living room. Gee, weren't you the
one who told me not to bring a dog into the house?

I also found out, quite by accident, my mother was cooking scrambled
eggs for my dog. I forgot my purse or something one morning when I left
to go to work. Came back and discovered she was feeding scrambled eggs
to Sampson. MOM! What the heck are you doing? She said, "He likes
them." Of course he does. No wonder he wasn't eating his Alpo. LOL

Cats... Mom did finally realize they're okay. Really, you don't have to
love them or let them crawl all over you. Just accept them. I'm not
sure my father would have. shrug

Jill