Meow
Hangover instead of cat: Bye bye, shared flat for women!
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Our colleague wanted to found a purring kitty flat share, an island in the patriarchy. But fate had other plans …
Hedwig moved in with me at the age of twelve weeks, with nothing but a gray fur, the softness of a pussy willow. She followed me everywhere, slept next to me at night and was the muse on the secretary during the day. But when I left the apartment, I heard her heartbreaking crying outside the house. It quickly became clear: the trend was towards a second cat.
“Wilma has a penis”
Three months later, Wilma came to us, a strong two-tone ball with a baby face. The beginning of a wonderful friendship? It turned out differently. At the first meeting Hedwig went off to the new, hissed and struck. I was desperate, so I gave them Bach flowers to relax and sprayed cat pheromones. Nothing helped. Hedwig’s resentment remained. Wilma, on the other hand, reacted calmly, following the motto: “Just wait and see!”
A couple of weeks later I dragged Wilma to get vaccinated. The vet was immediately irritated: “But she has big paws for a female.” She lifted her tail, rummaged around in the fluff and said: “Congratulations on your beautiful little boy.” I looked flabbergasted. Wilma has a penis. And Hedwig had known it from the beginning, because in the universe of cuddly toys everything revolves around smells. So the vet wrote “Wilhelm” in the file. And a castration appointment.
On the way home I radioed the breeder who didn’t want to know anything about the mistake. It is now my problem whether I love “Katzi” less now. That sat. I accepted Hedwig’s and my fate and dragged it home with me. Two cats are a thing of their own. But I now have two and a half. Because “Katzi” has grown into a six-kilo fluff bomb that any Chihuahua could casually slam onto the mat. No wonder. Every evening Pascha Plüsch first gobbles down his portion and then claws Hedwig’s – when I’m not watching over the bowls.
A man in the house was not planned
Of course, there would have been no guarantee of harmony on a kitty combination. But a man in the house – I’m still not enthusiastic about that to this day. It was never planned that way. I’ve always crashed with alpha characters à la Wilhelm: “Butterfly swimmers” who push everyone else out of the pool in the outdoor pool, guys who rant loudly about their “business” in the subway, two-meter men who stand in front of me at concerts , Explain without a clue. At least my apartment should have remained a testosterone-free zone, a paradise in patriarchy, pleasant purring as the background noise.
But Willi doesn’t care about my feelings. He conquers territories like a general: Both doze on the sofa, he gets more and more legs apart, puts his foot in Hedwig’s stomach until she pulls away, annoyed. My bed is also his territory. Every night he claims the best place for himself: head on the pillow, body stretched out, his back pressed against mine. If Hedwig lies in my arms, he suddenly wants to, trudges over me and squeezes in between. If a man is visiting, the critters are not allowed to sleep. But the cat doesn’t see that at all – and uses violence. He works the closed door as if he had bazookas instead of velvet paws, his eunuch voice rang out in the highest tones. Despite ear plugs, I hear how he furiously digs half the litter from the litter box out of the bowl in the kitchen. Clear act of revenge. And lack of impulse control.
Even if I’m often annoyed and still don’t know exactly what fate wanted to say to me with Willi: Unfortunately, he knows exactly how to wrap me around my paw. Then he lies down on his back and proudly stretches his belly towards me, which shines pink through the mass of white fur like a Malle beer belly on the beach. Hedwig would never reveal herself. He maunts me promptly, I bury my hands in his fur until they almost disappear. Somebody purrs. And unfortunately I have to say that what so often connects women and men also works here: physical attraction.
JANA FELGENHAUER never thought that she would one day become a Crazy Cat Lady. Well, it can go that fast …