Aristocat Lady

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Thank you and onto this Monday's post.

Good Labor Day,

I’d like to address a topic that recently entered my mind. I had a brief conversation recently with a friend who once said to me “I don’t want to be single and end up a cat lady.”

I wondered why she feared so much. I think I’m allergic to cats, but this friend loves cats.

The extended stay I’m currently living in has a cat named Sylvester. Roughly every morning, someone else at the extended stay (who is NOT me) walks down the hallway to get to the lobby where breakfast is served, looks out the window overlooking Sylvester’s food bowl, and sings “Abraham de Lacy, Giuseppe, Casey, Thomas Sylvester the hotel cat.”

For those who don’t know, this is a parody of a catchy little ditty from Disney’s 1970 animated feature “Aristocats.” Put simply, the movie is about a rich woman who has rich cats. Thus, the title is a pun off of aristocrat.

How is this related to my friend? The woman in the movie (Adelaide) is elderly and lives alone with four cats and an under-appreciated butler. Since the butler doesn’t really count, Adelaide is, for all intents and purposes, the cat lady.

A week or so ago, I read a blog post somewhere that detailed what peoples’ Facebook pictures say about them. This person said that a picture of a person with their cat means that said person has a cat obsession, will talk constantly about their cat, will post pictures of their cat, and will even post annoying pictures from that Lolcats app. (This is a summary.) That is exactly the kind of behavior my friend wants to avoid.

And Disney made a movie that condones becoming a cat lady. Since almost every kid in America (and many other countries) grows up watching Disney movies, this is as good as broadcasting “becoming a cat lady is cool” into the sky.

Adelaide lives with four cats. She encourages her cats to sing, play the piano, probably dance, and value manners. She goes so far as to leave everything to her cats in her will. At the end of the movie, Thomas O’Malley becomes part of the family, and Adelaide is insistent that provisions be made for future little ones. She says this while the cats are posing for a family photo. If this isn’t bad enough, she adopts all of O’Malley’s street friends, makes a home for them in the basement, and announces that it is her new foundation for all the alley cats of Paris.

Woman, you have a problem.

I see now why my friend thinks becoming a cat lady is a real possibility. “Aristocats” could literally frighten someone into thinking they’ll grow old and collect house cats. Me, personally, I’d prefer a panther, but those don’t make for terribly good pets.

So if you or anyone you know has gotten to “that point,” it’s time to seriously analyze your future. If there are too many cats in the house to move, sit, eat, go to the bathroom, or any other in-house activity. Think about “Aristocats.” If you start getting music lessons for your cats, YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR!!! Come back.

Thank you for your time. And remember, you're only as much of a cat lady as you want to be.

See you out of the box,
Caboodle