“Cats don’t comfort you when you’re feeling down.”
What a load of crap !!! One thing for certain… cats don’t give a rat’s ass what B.S. you tell about them. They refuse to care less, either about what you think of them, or about the people they love.
“Cats don’t miss you when you’re gone” is a ton of bs. Whenever I leave to go anywhere, I can hear my cats meowing at the door within moments trying to find me. They sit in the window watching for me to come home and they are at the door to greet me almost every single time.
Cats also grieve. This cat watches a video of their owner who had passed away and he tries to cuddle up with the phone. The look on his face when they zoom in on him brings me to tears every time.
One of our cats comes and sleeps next to me when he sees that I’m not feeling well. If he’s in the kitchen when I come down for food with cramps or with a cold, he’ll follow me back upstairs and lay down on me and purr.
Cats are aloof animals who don’t put up with nonsense, will defend their boundaries with claws, and sometimes like to push things down to see what happens, but they aren’t jerks.
The purring thing is even better when you know that purring emits a super low-frequency sound that actually promotes healing in cats. If your cat sits on you and purs when you’re feeling sick, it’s trying to make you feel better.
Cats are also not nearly as aloof as people think. They just speak a different language than dogs. A cat sitting with you in the same room and just chilling is the equivalent of a dog being in your face: it’s the way they say “I really like you and I want to share my personal space with you.”
These examples are more obvious than some. But they have to be, because so many people overlook the quieter ways cats try to tell us they love us.
when adults tell teenagers that the dull ache of high school is just a survivable mess that they’re making up to be worse than it is, i think of this:
when i was in sophomore year, i was in an accident and the left side of my face was hit. i sat in the emergency room with a clearly broken nose and blood coming out of a laceration on my cheek. and i did my homework. i did my homework with a black eye swelling up, with little red fingerprints on it.
and he told me to redo it. that it wasn’t good enough. the assignment itself was worth maybe five points out of a hundred. he wouldn’t forgive me for it. when i explained about my concussion, he told me to do it somewhere dark.
we don’t make it up. the value of our lives becomes almost nothing at all. the quality of living that is allowed is so low that students learn to apply it to themselves. they are useless, unimportant, a machine to figure out problems without any food, sleep, family time. nothing. we call teenagers moody because something in them breaks a little. we don’t say: they are stressed beyond measure and they believe their own physical health is less important than the quality of the product they’re forced to produce. we don’t say: wouldn’t you be moody too?
Its almost like it was designed to create corporate drones who allow companies to pay them dirt for their time and sanity withou t thinking twice about it.
