the pup, pupster, little p... my little puppy
I've wondered at times if the way people train or deal with their pets is a good or accurate predictor of what they'd be like as parents. If it is then I'm doomed to being one of those parents I see in my neighborhood that annoy the absolute crap out of me. Out at a restaurant, or book store, or some other public space the overwhelming feeling is that many parents don't seem to teach their kids that there are boundaries between good behavior and bad behavior. It appears as if everything their child does is wonderful and amazing and utterly utterly unique. That the world happens to stop and start whenever Jackson or Lila says it does.
So, it's with not a little horror that I watch what my cat has become. I think it's so much fun to watch him tear down the hall and pivot jump from couch to chair to table top. I love to see him perched on top of an open door or the refrigerator. When he puts his little paw out to swat at me, I grab it and wrestle him. I have scars from our "games." He has never known good behavior from bad. He rules the household and knows it. Now he's five years old and a total menace. I know other people have enough of him within five minutes. But I never do, he's just so utterly utterly cute.
So, technically, I guess, what I've written isn't really a reflection on photography so much as a reflection on my .... cat (But there are photos!). Even though this will inevitably mark me as someone who has blogged about cats, I had to mark my affection for my little puppy.
(Oh yeah - I guess I rightly get a hard time for his name pretty frequently - his name is Puppy. When I got him from the animal shelter five years ago this month, he was so inquisitive and playful and followed me to the door when I left. I'd never had a cat before so I didn't know if this was cat-like or not. He reminded me of a little puppy.)
So, it's with not a little horror that I watch what my cat has become. I think it's so much fun to watch him tear down the hall and pivot jump from couch to chair to table top. I love to see him perched on top of an open door or the refrigerator. When he puts his little paw out to swat at me, I grab it and wrestle him. I have scars from our "games." He has never known good behavior from bad. He rules the household and knows it. Now he's five years old and a total menace. I know other people have enough of him within five minutes. But I never do, he's just so utterly utterly cute.
So, technically, I guess, what I've written isn't really a reflection on photography so much as a reflection on my .... cat (But there are photos!). Even though this will inevitably mark me as someone who has blogged about cats, I had to mark my affection for my little puppy.
(Oh yeah - I guess I rightly get a hard time for his name pretty frequently - his name is Puppy. When I got him from the animal shelter five years ago this month, he was so inquisitive and playful and followed me to the door when I left. I'd never had a cat before so I didn't know if this was cat-like or not. He reminded me of a little puppy.)
posted by bridget at
8:08 PM
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