Why this calico cat has an attitude

by Chloe T. Kitteh
(http://twitter.com/catloversonly)

Calico Cat Mourns Tree

Have you heard that calico cats have an attitude? Well, there's one particular painted cat that has good reason to be upset. It's all laid out in a letter to her obviously uninitiated human.

The headline should have read "Cat Mourns Loss of Tree, Owner Charged in Animal Cruelty Case"

It should have been front page news, or "film at eleven." But alas, it didn't even make the back page, where it could have been sandwiched in between a story about some elderly lady complaining that her condominium association won't allow her to keep her parakeet on the balcony, and some guy who thinks his recipe for sardine sandwiches sold by girls in bikinis will make him as famous as the Subway sandwich chain.

In an open letter (see below) to the uninitiated about the so-called "calico cat attitude" and the meaning of the behavior of these beautiful felines, one painted cat makes a case.

Calicos, and cats in general, simply want the respect and consideration they deserve. Like all cats, calicos don't like abrupt change. As such, they want to be consulted on all changes that take place in their environment. And make no mistake, it is their environment.

Sadly, that is not always the case, as in the situation here...

Dear Clueless Human,

I am "your" calico cat, for lack of a better term. I have heard complaints directed at my kind, and references to the snooty attitude of calico cats, and indeed, cats in general.

As Carole C. Wilbourn, author of Cat Talk said...

"A cat is a very sensitive animal. How he feels is how he acts. It is therefore very important to know how your cat is feeling."

Well, here's a news flash. I am not aloof, stuck-up, unfriendly, or otherwise disengaged. On the contrary, we cats are deeply empathetic, introspective, and emotionally moved by many events.

It's one particular event I'd like to address, and my emotions surrounding it.

I refuse to look at you or acknowledge your presence, much less speak to you until you acknowledge my grief. I am in mourning over the loss of this tree which YOU removed. MY tree! Gone!

Don't lie. I saw you. I saw you use the saw. I saw you saw the tree. You evil saw-er you.

I will not look at you until you come clean and admit what you've done, and that it was wrong. That's not aloof, that's hurt. Learn to read emotions, person!

This tree was my favorite climbing spot and by far the best way to safely taunt the neighbor's dog. You've ruined the fun of driving that dog crazy. I can no longer enjoy sitting on a branch and looking smug while watching his human yell at him to stop barking and force him to go inside the house.

The squirrels that used to hang out in this tree have now moved on. The birds that I used to chatter at can no longer perch here.

Do you even know that you've ruined my fun? Are you hu-MAN enough to acknowledge that much?

I miss this tree. And further more, it was a double tree. I love the double tree hotel that used to reside on this spot. It had beautiful resting spots on the branches of one trunk, with great views of the birdies and squirrels that resided on the other.

I used to practice my slink-stalk moves along the branches of this beautiful tree. Where do you think the term "cat walk" came from anyway?

Sigh.

The only thing that will heal my broken heart is time, and right now, I'm even doubtful of that. The only thing that gives me some bit of consolation is lying down here on the spot where the tree used to be and reciting a poem over and over in my little furry head.

Bigger sigh.

Once upon a time, there was a majestic tree.
That my furriness used to climb.
You took that tree away from me.
And that should be a crime.

Own up to it. Console me by offering me something I like. Not those cheap treats you buy, something nice. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll look at you, and we can begin to heal.

Sincerely,

One very attitudinal calico cat