Herban Sprawl

This just in: a new study from the University of Minnesota has shown that people with cats are less likely to die of cardiovascular disease than people with dogs or no pets. Apparently, dog ownership does not alleviate the likelihood of a cardiovascular episode.

Why am I not surprised? As one who cohabits with three male cats (and I’m not counting the two-legged one), I understand what it is that cats do for humans. They turn us into blubbering sycophants. In return, they honor us with selectively bestowed affection. Anyone who says cats are not affectionate needs a lesson in feline behavior!

This is not to say I find dogs to be objectionable – far from it. I like dogs. My first brother was a large, boxy Springer Spaniel with a pedigree as long as your arm. His name was Kingaroo, but we called him Kinger. He was a love. The only time he ever displayed unwanted aggression was when the camera came out. He once shoved Aunt Mary out of the cushy chaise where Mom had her posing, and positioned himself for the birdie. It all happened so fast - one minute she was lounging in a leggy pose, the next she was sailing off the chair and had landed on the grass smack on her kiester! She swore at him, but couldn’t do anything else but laugh like the rest of us.

And truth be told, if Anna had ever looked askance at her Spike, I would have packed him into my car in a heartbeat.

However, we have cats. In the early morning, little cup of espresso in hand, covered with the patchwork blanket, I am visited by one who nestles against my chest, purring. Being forced to sit still is seldom problematic, but even when it is, the heart rate slows, the body relaxes and the warm lump vibrates gently. You can’t “do” a cat’s ears and not feel a sense of calm.

One will not sit on my lap. The only lap he will visit is Big Kitty’s and only when he wears jeans. Work pants, pajama bottoms and sweatpants will not do. Jeans. Period. However, he has a little compromise for me. He sits on the arm of the sofa, next to me and showers me with head butts and invitations for petting. He hates to be confined, so an arm around him isn’t allowed. I know the rules and I abide by them. But at 16 pounds, he is so tempting that I occasionally disrupt his chi by picking him up and torturing him with a big hug.

The third denizen drapes himself over an arm or hand and drools. His purr rivals a 2 horse Briggs & Stratton. His gift for arranging himself beats any sex kitten for come hither appeal. His is a typical pretty boy personality. It’s important to play hard to get because he only wants what he can’t have. He’s adorable.

Humans don’t own cats. It’s the other way around. You learn to relinquish control and live with their rhythms. And their rhythms are all about bringing the shoulders down, relaxing the muscles and breathing. They’re heart-healthy creatures.