Do you love animals, or do you endure their existence? My grandfather, E. H. Garlock loved cats! His expertise was in the handling of and training of horses--but he adored cats. They always had a position of royalty in his home. Grandmother, Jessie May endured their existence...often with disgust.
It does seem to be an inherent trait, the love of cats that is. By the time I discovered America..(translation, was born), my grandparents were elderly. ( My grandfather was 73.) I vividly recall meeting Mickey the Cat when I was three or four years old. He was a gray striped feline that had little or no tolerance for a child my age--but he was Grandpa's prize possession.
Even though my relationship with the aloof Mickey did little to foster a deep love for him, I would trail him though my grandfather's garden, hoping to touch his soft coat. More likely I would get a scratch or yowl from him when I tried. In the recesses of my memory it seems I recall my grandmother responding with a remark about, "that miserable cat" while cleaning up a scratch. Grandpa on the other hand would take the cat's side. I must have agreed with him, for my love for cats--no doubt fostered by Mickey the Cat--has never abated.
Grandpa's cat, Mickey, was the first cat I ever met. I recall how bad he felt when that big Tom Cat passed. I shared his grief--but have always wondered why he never got another. It is amazing to me, however, that so many of our family--cousins and siblings--dearly love cats. I have two now. Did we indeed inherit this from Grandpa? Good question!
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