Felicitations

Doing some review of the last few weeks of blogs, it's all been pretty heavy, both in terms of content (America entering our Jump the Shark Era) and in terms of content (I can't think of a single defensible argument for eleven girthy paragraphs last week). Sure, the justification is there given the size of the historical moment, but one should have the self-awareness to understand the medium and why anyone might come here to read something. If you really wanted in-depth historico-political analysis by a flailing amateur, you could turn on cable news at any hour of any day. Or at least if you want that, you should probably get to it soon, before news is cowed into only being about unusual Christmas light displays or a strawberry that looks like Jesus.

To that end, I thought I would take this almost-last post of the year and, with inspiration from a YouTube video I saw, review my cat. This is in lieu of a list of stuff I read or watched because all I watched this year, well, was fucking YouTube. It's been stressful, OK? I'll do culture in 2025.

Cat

An evaluation

Date rage: 1 Sept through 19 Dec 2024. Call it a quarterly review.

Subject name: Socks*

Type of cat: Regular (like, not one of those freaky giant ones. Normal cat size, for human laps)

Quantitative Evaluation by category:

Coloration: 8/10. Technically a "tortoise-shell" type of American shorthair. Points off because, although her mottled pattern is excellent for camouflage, I've been given to understand that people call them "torties," which I cannot abide.

Physique: 6/10. Although she can look graceful and sleek, she's on the small side and, at over 2 years old, not likely to grow. As a result she comes across as fragile, which causes me to worry about her safety, which I do not appreciate.

Shedding: 10/10. Sheds almost not at all, weirdly. The only pet I've ever had that was allowed in my bedroom, let alone my bed. And not because I live alone and compensating for the seeping darkness of a home once enlivened with children's laughter, I mean just because she doesn't make the comforter look like shag carpeting. Value here cannot be exaggerated.

Vocalization: 8/10. Was very quiet at first, but now speaks primarily when spoken to, meaning we can have sorts of "conversations" as she responds, though honestly the subject matter is limited. Her positions on things like politics or global warming are embarrassingly underdeveloped, though I take responsibility for being the one exposing her to most media. Points off for being very begrudging with the purrs. They happen, but rarely and never for more than a few minutes.

Temperament: 6/10. Frickin' scared of every goddamned thing. She's used to me now, but it took a lot of work (me sitting perfectly still for hours at a time, which is luckily one of my primary skills). Three-plus months in and I'm still the only person she'll approach. Her reticence has been tough to break her out of as I'm the only person she sees normally. But even regular visitors (I have those!) send her scurrying for cover. I get it, she's small and the world is big, but there's really no need to panic and scramble away like you're Indiana Jones running from the boulder just because I'm walking toward you in a corridor. Chill the fuck out, honestly.

Personality: 7/10. I've heard many times "ooh, a tortie, torties are spicy" from people who I now hate. What they are trying to convey is that cats with this coloring tend to be combative, unaffectionate or even aggressive. But it's a coloring, not a species or even a breed. Her sister at the cat rescue was a regular tabby, it's just an expression of superficial genes. She's a regular cat. She's curious, but also cautious. The fact that she's combative and not that affectionate (or at least wasn't at first) I'm sure are coincidences.

Maintenance: 5/10. Honestly, a five is about the best any creature is going to do when what we're really talking about here is volunteering to be obligated to handle their feces. Do not enjoy. But she doesn't eat a lot. Could be worse.

Interactivity: 6/10. This one I really had to think about. She's made big strides. She annoys the shit out of me in the mornings, mewing like she wants something but keeping her distance. And she wakes me up at night now, crawling all over me when I'm trying to sleep, typically in the small hours before my alarm goes off for work. She doesn't like to play much as she gets suspicious and either flighty or defensive pretty fast. But luckily a cat that leaves me alone a lot kind of suits what I was looking for anyway: something to point to if the neighbors worried about hearing me talk to myself.

Overall score: 56/80, or 70%

For someone who was a dog guy for 50 straight years, this is a remarkable number. A bare C-minus might seem harsh, but I don't want to inflate the score in case she reads this at some point and reaches the conclusion she doesn't have any room for improvement.

I will continue to monitor thorough the next year and let you know how she gets on. I will go out on a limb and say we should allow ourselves to be cautiously optimistic.

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*I hope you know me well enough to realize I would never, under any circumstances, give my cat a name this banal. But I can't get her to sign the release forms, so I'm not taking any chances with online privacy issues going forward. So a pseudonym it is. This is the same reason I am not including her email address.