An ode to El Rupino

cropped-rufio.jpg

Let me start here….my cat is the coolest mother fucker I know. If it isn’t clearly evident from the above portrait then you are either blind, in which case I apologize for my insensitivity, or you own a tiger, in which case your cat is definitely cooler than mine.

There is something about this little derp-head that fulfills my life in a manner than no other creature on this earth can. Every day as I trudge down my apartment building’s hallway after work, I can hear his little cries bellowing out from the crack at the bottom of my front door. It’s like he can sense my looming presence. I open the door and have to physically push him back as he cries and meows until I pick him up and cradle him in my arms like the furry cat baby that he is. These first few minutes as I walk into the door are some of the best moments of my usually hectic days. Having another living being, though it be a cat, love me to the point that he cries and feels the need to try and push his way through a steel door in order to reach me makes my heart swell so big. It is when I am reminded that he does in fact love me as much as I love him. He needs me like I need him.

As I reach an age where all the kids I grew up with are starting to get married and have babies, I sometimes feel like I am falling behind in the way of adulthood. I am not married, I don’t have kids, and I still crave lunchables on the regular. Let’s just say I haven’t quite figured out this growing up thing yet. There are days when I feel the urge to spawn and have a little me running around and then there are days where I just want to lay on the couch, watch Broad City, and get drunk on craft beer. I catch slack from my family on the regular for not having a child or even being close to having one. The daily onslaught of social media pressure to have a baby can be crushing for a woman who is nowhere near ready to reproduce. But I have decided that I haven’t met my “me time” quota yet and therefore should not even begin to let the haters bother me. Until the day comes that I am ready to put a bun in my oven, I will be eternally grateful to have Rufio.

He gives me 100% of the motherhood fulfillment that I currently need as a 24 year old woman. He needs me and that is enough for me right now. To have a warm, fuzzy little body to snuggle with on the couch and to see him get excited over treats is enough for me. To have him creep watch me every time I use the bathroom is enough for me. Even though he has left my ankles scarred from his constant biting, a creature smaller and more helpless than myself that loves me no matter what is enough for me. For now, he is my baby while I still feel like a baby myself. And when that fateful day comes that I do spawn a human being, the world will always know who my numero uno is.

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