One of my favorite movies of all time is the 1970’s cult classic, The Stepford Wives. After years of studying my cat Mookie’s behavior, I have determined that he is indeed a Stepford cat.
In case you never saw the original (or the remake), the men of a town called Stepford transform their normal wives into their perfect vision of a woman – beautiful, submissive and armed with the innate ability to make an amazing casserole. The only problem is that these new creations are mechanical monstrosities without a soul.
His eyes are big gorgeous globes and his longhaired coat is wonderfully silky. Mookie plays the part of a cat quite well. He purrs, he meows, and he rolls on his back for tummy rubs. He even allows you to put him on his back and cradle him like a baby, something my other cats will not tolerate.
But, Mookie is Satan. He’s never shown an ounce of true affection in the seven years I have known him. I’ve watched him study the other cats in the household and adopt some of their more adorable traits as if he is intent on transforming himself into the ultimate feline model.
When non-cat people claim that cats have no personality and can’t form loyal and loving bonds with their owners like dogs, I vehemently disagree. My other two cats play fetch and happy chatter. They ooze love and tenderness.
But, then I think of Mookie’s emotional detachment, and I have to begrudgingly admit the haters have a point. If Mookie was opened up, would there be a heart or just mechanical parts?
(In spite of my dire analysis, Mookie is loved and is just as spoiled as my other cats.)
How do you learn to love and appreciate the indifferent feline? Do you feel cats can be as affectionate as dogs?