Cool for Cats

I’m taking a much-deserved break from a night of YouTube viewing that’s (so far) included dancing kittens, eerily codependent ‘shell’ cats, ninja cats, and my friend’s latest send up of uptight, unqualified space cadet Sarah Palin.

All of which got me thinking about hunters (who may or may not be Republican, not that there’s anything wrong with that!).  And in the other  camp, people who take videos of their cat snoring and then post it for all the world to see.

‘Obadiah Out Cold’ by Kelly Burns © 2008. All rights reserved.

For certainly these are two very diverse populations with diverse housing needs.  Surely, we would not wish to see (nor do I think it would be physically possible to see) these people as neighbors.   Uptight hunting Republicans belong as clearly to the North Shore as indulgent pet parents documenting Fluffy’s first toddle belong to my much beloved Oak Park. 

I have lived in Red states, indeed was born and raised in one.  They are the proud and flag-draped dominion of gun racks, hound dogs, and my personal favorite the unchained unfixed pit bull that goes tearing through your yard at all hours, scaring your cats out of about 8 of their remaining lives.  I’m a cat person, always have been. But the Red states and the Cat states do not, shall we say, see eye to eye.  There was only one solution for me and that was moving.

Let me just state for the record that it’s only in Oak Park that I have been able to bear happy witness to cats “owning” the town, as dogs do in the state from which I emmigrated.  Here indeed cats saunter down the sidewalk in front of “their” house, with a proud little swish of ownership.  It’s a nice change from the pure terror most outdoor cats display in “dog” neighborhoods which so abound not only in the Red states most of us have happily fled but also right here in Chicago (I’m talking ’bout you, Logan Square and Rogers Park!) . 

Now I don’t want to start a cat person/dog person war or a Red state/Blue state debacle.  But for those of you pet parents out there who have always wondered “is there anyplace I can let Snowball run free without the overwhelming fear of impending doom?”  I say yes, yes there is!  If you can’t love a City until you love its alleys, for sure you cannot love Oak Park until you love its cats.   Oak Park: the place Snowball can finally be herself.

Unless of course you truly love the drama of your evening walk turning up an unchained pit bull.  And in that case, uh, I really can’t help you.