March 12th 2010 9:31 pm
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All my life I've been a needy kind of cat. The one who needs incessant attention. The one who acts out when he isn't happy with the home situation (like, we moved, or there's a strange cat in the neighborhood who looks at me through the window).
I have a history of peeing on rugs and sometimes things that aren't rugs but look like them. Like the Roomba. Or my daddy's computer case. Sometimes it was so bad that Mom and Dad put me on anti-anxiety drugs. They didn't like that because it kind of made me a zombie, and really it didn't help all that much with my antisocial behavior.
I thought I was a frustrated czar. Always there was a cat ahead of me -- older, bigger, stronger, smarter. I thought I would be happy if I were king.
But y'know what? I'm not king, and maybe I really never wanted to be. My brother Bear is the top cat now, and the pressure is off. Mom and Dad say I have never been more calm and loving. I let my sister Vicki sleep on top of me in my favorite bed. I actually play with Bear. I groom Jasper (I've given him so much trouble that he isn't sure he wants to groom me, but give it time).
I think I've been depressed for a long time, and my sister Vicki has brought out the best in me. She likes me. She likes to play with me, but she also likes to cuddle with me. She licks my ears. She doesn't threaten me. She is a very good sister, and I apologize for hissing at her and trying to pee on her when she first appeared. (Well, she did look kind of like a rug).
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