Thursday, June 16, 2011

I'm A-Frey'd I Don't Get It...

This is my writer's new cat, Freya. She got this feline from the Edmonton Humane Society, and named her for a Norse goddess.

At first I couldn't understand why. Sure, (She's absolutely precious) but why do humans insist on sheltering and feeding such small animals? They have no intentions of eating them, so why bother?

(Snuggliness and adorability aside,) They are not raised for consumption like livestock and they cannot take care of YOU when you are old. Nor can they help with family businesses, or out in the fields, grant wishes and favors, or be used as currency.

They are Pets. They are for 'petting'. I believed such a creature was a luxury trinket. Expensive and pretty, but otherwise without function. (But soooo irresistable!)

Then I met Freya. She's a sweet, loving, purring Cute-Tip. Watching what she's done to my writer and her husband is a little freakish. They've gone from normal humans to gushing idiots. (The cat probably thinks her name is "I love you, Pretty Girl.")

The weird thing? She makes them happy. How did something that does nothing much more than eat, sleep and poop manage that? It's like they're under a spell. No wonder your ancestors thought they were evil.


  1. Awe, darn cute pooper! It's like jewelry for writers. We need to feed a fetish.

  2. Well said Miranda!

    Unfortunately, she's my first pet...EVER! So I'm not getting a lot of work done. I'm too busy bonding and snuggling. Thank God 'Thoeba' is already written and ready to publish. :P