Recently I have been cursing my tortoise-shell cat. She is too in love with me. Everywhere I go, she follows. If I sit or lie down anywhere, she is soon at my side, 0r climbing on top of me, usually gazing deeply into my eyes with a look of sheer, demented love on her face. I give her lots of love but she won’t let up. It gets to the point that if I glance at her, she goes crazy with the purring and the rubbing and the writhing. For this reason, I sometimes force myself not to look at her, because it will continue for hours.
If I have my iPod on and start to absent-mindedly sing, I feel the vibrations on my legs of her purring and look down to see her once again staring back at me drunk with love, the sound of my voice having set her off. When I get home for work, she literally comes running down the stairs to greet me. When I leave the house, I look back and there she is, sitting in the living room window watching me go.
Sometimes it is off-putting.
There have been four living creatures who have loved me this much. My son when he was a baby. His eyes would follow me wherever I went, and if I walked out of the room, he would cry. My daughter as a toddler could not get enough of me, and never wanted to leave my side. An old boyfriend who still loves me with the same intensity as my tortoise-shell cat. I have seen that demented look of love on his face many times.
Which brings me back to the cat. Today I told some of my closest girlfriends my tale of woe. It is something I carry with me but don’t talk about much because I assume people won’t understand it. Of course, these amazing women did, and it was cathartic and weepy. And tonight, I sort of felt scared and alone after telling it, and there was that sweet little cat, pressed against me, purring and gazing up at me with all the love in her little kitty heart. And I was very grateful for her. No one and nothing can ever love you too much.