Dear New Cat Owner,
Congratulations, you've joined the likes of Abraham Lincoln, Robert E. Lee and Ernest "So-Manly-It-Borders-On-Homoerotic" Hemingway to name but a few in the joys of cat ownership. Reach around and give yourself a pat on the back. Unfortunately, were it not for other, less sensible cat owners, I would not have to write this.
No, but your sex life might be...
Starting off, you must be mindful of the fact that your cat is, like others of the felis genus, a dedicated carnivore. That's right, while the kitty may look like a pointy eared ball of curiosity or disdain (depending on age) that animal is a predator through and through. So where does that put you? Are you a potential food item? Not really, or at least not while you still breathe and have the legs to carry you, you're not. Are you the "alpha-cat"? No, that would require a level of dedication and loyalty that this particular specie of feline does not possess. No, kind owner, you're a bloody cat!
Only not as attractive...
That's right, a big, stupid cat that brings in food from out-of-doors and plays with their already dead morsel of dead animal that your cat didn't watch you catch. Be wary of this, as it will encourage your cat to bring you dead animals as a gesture of goodwill and also as a bloody, festering and nasty training implement. That is, it's trying to teach you to hunt. Cats, as a rule, should want to help one another if possible as they are used to roaming around cities and countrysides in colonies of varying sizes and strengths, not unlike trash bags, in a sort of collective effort. Independent as they may seem, they have a sense of community among other cats when forced to unite; nothing forces cats to unite like an oppressive habitat. So, don't be surprised if the cat feels the need to curl up next to you in the oppressive habitat you call home.
The curling-up tendency that I speak of (or as I like to call it, "kitty-witty-cuddly-wuddles time") is another communal act. Don't be surprised at the kneading paws as the cat drifts off into a deep nod that reminds it of its mother. This doesn't mean it thinks you're its mother, you're still that big dumb cat in its colony. No, the cat is merely working out its "mommy issues" as it was presumably taken from its mother early on, and is subconsciously trying to stimulate milk out of whatever part of your body it's sitting on just like it did back in your cat's "salad days."
I can't wait to move out of here! YOU'RE SMOTHERING ME!
Now as you find yourself enjoying this, you'll be encouraged to force the cat upon your lap. The cat will try to make a break for it, to flee from your non-consensual petting time (pet-rape.) This does not mean the cat doesn't like you, it means the cat is afraid. Remember when I stated that in the cat's eyes you're a big dumb cat? Well, cats aren't known for being trusting of their fellow felines. Cats in the bush will eat the young of another, steal another cat's food, mob on one cat and beat it up because it wandered into the wrong turf wearing the wrong colors. Given the no-shit, cat-eat-cat, nature of the environment they have evolved in it pays to be the bigger cat. You, are the biggest, dumbest and clumsiest cat that cat has ever seen, and given your feline ineptitude it subconsciously assumes you're up to no good because you absolutely suck at being a cat. You got it! The cat thinks you're going to fuck its shit up! So be not offended or ashamed, it's just how the cat is genetically predisposed to thinking. The thinking that at any given moment, any cat out there that thinks it's rude is going to want to have a go.
But if I impart no other great knowledge, remember this: Never die alone in the same house as a bunch of cats. Remember what I mentioned about cannibalism among cats? Well you're dead, no one else knows your dead, you're old, live in a shabby apartment on the wrong side of town and as a result no one will come looking for you until they smell your death from the other side of the door. The cat in all of this knows there is no other source of food available except for the freshly dead, no-longer-walking-and-talking meat sack wrapped in a shawl on the sofa, so it does the only thing it can do. Cats have left half-eaten corpses for landlords and superintendents to find for decades, don't add yourself to that half-eaten, closed casket group. Get yourself a stable retirement plan, invest, and ultimately find a reason for people to miss you. Otherwise, you're cat food for a desperate feline.
May your cat owning experience be a wondrous adventure, and don't get eaten.
Sincerely,
Rey Ignatius Fawkes
