Week 11: Write a critique
Truth time. The last thing I want to do right now is critique something. I’m naturally self-critical (I don’t think this is a unique quality). Proofreading and editing is part of my professional tasks, and when you spend most of your days thinking, “Will someone be mad at me for correcting this?” Critiquing feels exhausting.
I lack the empathy to understand how internet trolls get pleasure out of tearing down the work of strangers. I guess it’s the old “hurt people to help yourself” mentality. Whatever it is, I’m critical of that behavior, but I also have no desire to be a hypocrite either.
So, I’m going to critique someone I know well; someone who would do the same to and for me… if he could talk—my cat.
In 2019, two newlyweds walked into a humane society and adopted a cat they named Meso. Meso was tiny and orange and seemed interested in getting to know these newlyweds. Little did the newlyweds know what this cat would become, for the newlyweds also had no idea that six months later, the world would shut down. That’s right, Meso is a pandemic pet.
I love my cat. I really do. We think he hung the moon. We also think that if it were up to him, he’d push the moon off a table and then probably try to eat it.
I did not grow up with cats. In fact, I was hesitant to welcome a feline into our home because cats always seemed mean to me. But my husband grew up with cats and had a better idea of what to expect. As apartment dwellers, a cat made sense. They’re relatively low maintenance, especially compared to dogs. So, we thought a cat would be easy. And honestly, he is easy. That’s not my critique.
This is my critique: I think we adopted a weirdo. I can’t tell if it’s because he spent the majority of his first two years of life with us around him almost 24/7, but this cat is clingy.
Meso (which is not pronounced like “miso” soup, but “Meh-zo”) sometimes sleeps by the front door when we aren’t home. He needs to be in the same room as at least one of us, and sometimes when we are in adjunct rooms, he lays on the floor in a position where he can see the both of us. He cries at night when we close him out of the bedroom (because his wildest hour is 4 a.m., and this girl needs her sleep.)
I wouldn’t call him a “social” cat, however. He requires a bit of time to warm up to new people. I tell people how clingy he is, but when they meet him, he runs and hides under our bed for about 15 minutes before creeping into the room to investigate the intruders.
We also call him a Sour Patch Kid. He fully embodies the “sweet and sour” description. He’ll cuddle up in our laps, rub his face on our faces (which is basically a cat’s hug), and sit as close as he can to be near us. But this cat has mood swings. He can go from purring and sweet to arching his back and howling.
At the end of the day, he’s a good friend to have around. He loves his automatic ball and giant flopping fish toy. He LOVES to be fed and can sort of tell time because of his automatic feeder. And any cat owner knows, there is nothing better in this world than when your cat curls up in your lap for a nap.
