Introducing The Furry Serial Killers
Increasing life satisfaction by 3-4 points, according to The Times of London
Fred and Ginger - Ginger is the less ginger one, to be clear - are often described in this house as The Ginger Cats (collectively); Roo-Roo, Ginger-roo, Gin-Gin (Ginger); The Fredster, Freddington Bear, Fredlington (Fred) and Very Handsome Fella (interchangeable).
At other times they are gently chastised for being Very Naughty Boys and given a short but insightful lecture into the error of their ways - usually when they bring in the spoils of their serial killing alter-egos or break the locked cat flap by letting themselves out in the middle of the night. The less said about all of that the better especially if, like me, you’re eating.
An article in The Times today posits that, according to economists, the psychological benefits of pet ownership are “equivalent to those gained from marriage - and akin to having an extra £70,000 a year”. Fred & Ginger are pretty rubbish at putting out the bins and I’ve definitely had cats before - Billy Cat and his bionic leg is a story for another time - that cost me what felt like £70,000 but I heartily agree that the stress-busting effect of our furry friends is huge.
Neither my lovely husband nor my lovely teenage daughters come running down the stairs, or in from the garden, when they hear me at the front door. Admittedly, the fact that I tend to say, “Hi boys!” as I walk in might help but there’s not a chance anyone else is listening out for my greeting!
Nobody but The Ginger Cats follows me around the house ‘chatting’, although come to think of it, that would be bloody annoying.
Nobody but my Very Handsome Fellas jumps up on my knee for a cuddle the minute I sit down on the sofa but actually, see paragraph above.
So what is it? Why has every house I’ve ever lived in not felt like a home unless there is at least one cat in it? The research in The Times suggests that having a cat or a dog helps people in stressful situations because the person is less likely to fret about being judged. Makes sense for dogs but cats! I’ve never met a cat that didn’t judge everyone that dared to cross its path.
And maybe that’s it. I’m an inveterate people pleaser - although I have to say being well into my forties seems to be making that trait a lot easier to kick to the curb - and, as long as I return the cuddles (easy), ensure a regular supply of Dreamies (achievable) and allow myself to be (occasionally) judged for failing to do the above (bearable), my Furry Serial Killers seem to be very pleased with me.
In the words of Sigmund Freud, “time spent with cats is never wasted”, especially when they are such Very Handsome Fellas…
