Letter to a Kitten
Dear ______________ -
First of all, I want to thank you for joining our household. You are an absolute treasure to us all; you eat with gusto, you play with great passion, you are loving and appreciative, you're a good sibling, you savor the simple joys of slumber; you are, in short, a Totally Awesome Kitten, and we look forward to many years of living with you as you grow from a spunky, adorable, troublesome kitten into a spoiled, fat, lazy housecat.
We love you.
This requires some explanation. "Love" is one of the worst words in our language, right up there with one called "God," since both are so confusing people literally kill each other and themselves over semantic issues every day. (Yes, it's true, in my species we often play MUCH too rough. I'm very proud of you and your sibling for being so wise about playing with each other without hurting each other. You're very good kittens.) So please bear with me and I'll try to help us both understand.
You were born a cat, and you are still a cat. Your species features lots of fur, and claws, and raspy tongues, and purring. Like my species, nipples are very important for you, especially at first. Unlike your species, my species has a lot less fur, not much claw, our tongues are larger and smoother, and we're really lousy at purring. (I'm really sorry about that. More on this later.)
You were born several months ago to a momcat who immediately decided you were the most important, beautiful, precious thing in the world. You yourself were going through a difficult, painful transition from a life inside her to a much more complicated and difficult life outside (yet alongside) her, but thanks to millions of years of evolution, you were equipped with instincts that helped you discover that something similar to all the joys and comforts you experienced in the womb could be found on the outside as well. You discovered nipples and purring, both of which I agree completely are absolutely wonderful, and kneading, and smells and sights and sounds and many other delightful things. You loved your mother, and your mother loved you, in the ways cats have loved each other forever.
Sadly, you and your mom had to part ways. Happily, you and one of your siblings were able to stay together and come live with us. We have some fur but no purr. We are happy to feed and pet you, but we do not lick you and our nipples are not only few and furless but useless to you.
This is what you are learning about love, not because you're a kitten but because this is what everyone is learning about love all the time: the love you crave deep in your bones and the love people can give you very seldom match up completely.
Part of me feels terribly apologetic every time you offer me your anus to lick, since I know among your species that's a very loving and important thing to share, yet sadly anus-licking is much further down the list of priorities for my species, and licking the anuses of other species is further down still. Part of me feels sad that I can't purr back at you when you're purring so sweetly at me, and yet the fact is I was not born to purr. I was born a human and shall no doubt die a human, weak on fur and unable to purr and not much use when it comes to licking animals of other species, even the ones I love. (Yes, I do sometimes lick members of my own species, but surprisingly seldom, although I know most of them are walking around most of the time wishing someone would lick them. It's complicated.)
If it's any consolation, we even have the same problems within my species. An astonishingly high percentage of us are born to crave love in ways that others of us find repulsive or even immoral. (How, you ask, can showing love be immoral? Good question; I don't have a good answer for that one.) We even develop loving needs over time that go far from what our parents initially showed us, yet are equally compelling...and equally elusive.
Some of us define love as "submission" and hopefully find someone else who defines love as "domination" in some roughly corresponding way. Others have deeply embedded in us definitions of love that involve food, music, sports, even violence, and so my whole species spends a ridiculous amount of time running around saying "LOVE ME! No, not that way, I said LOVE ME! What, are you stupid? That's not love; fer chrissake will you just hurry up and LOVE ME!"
And believe me, it's no less frustrating to be on the other end, to be constantly saying and showing "I love you! I love you! I love you!" to someone who keeps saying "Well, if you really loved me you'd show it to me differently," often in some secret way one has to guess at because our longings are so deep and so painful that we don't trust words with them. (Except those of us who are in love with words. It's kinda like purring for us.)
My grandfather used to say "I love you" by handing someone a book. (And so I've spent a lot of my life in bookstores.) My mother often said "I love you" by giving me food. (And so I've spent a lot of my life eating.) Some of the people who love me have said it by making me mixtapes, others have preferred to dance for me, and then there's a lot of different ways we use this stuff called "sex" (don't worry about it, it's not on your agenda and never will be) that's confusing but fun, and so on, and so on. I once loved someone who needed a big screaming argument once a week or so as part of her idea of "love" - I know I disappointed her, and it wasn't very easy on me either.
You're very young, but you've encountered a lot of this sort of thing already in your three months Outside. Sometimes you're hungry but it's not mealtime; you're gradually getting used to the idea that this doesn't mean anyone's going to let you starve. Or you're in the mood to wrassle with someone you love but your sibling wants to nap; this doesn't mean your sibling doesn't love you and wrassling, it's just a problem of timing.
(My species spends a lot of time crying over problems of timing and other arbitrary, circumstancial barriers to the flow of love. We're funny that way.)
The sooner you can learn this, the better: I will not lick you all over, but I will pet you a lot for all the same reasons your mom used to lick you all over: I love you. (And I'm always delighted when I see you and your sibling licking each other, giving each other catloving in ways we humans can't.) You have to get used to interpreting the intentions behind the actions of the people who love you. You will get love, there's a surprising amount of it out there (especially for kittens), but it seems like one of the most important parts of the game of life is trying to mix and match the love you crave with the love you can get.
In the words of one of our great poets (who celebrated his birthday the other day), "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need."
I ask your forgiveness in advance for all the times I won't purr back at you or lick your anus; I offer in exchange an indefinite number of expensive trips to the vet, litterbox cleanings, brushings and cat toys and other things humans can offer that cats can't. Most importantly I ask that, even as you suffer through a life tragically frustratingly low on anus- and fur-licking, you try to translate what I'm saying in my own language into what you long to hear in your own.
love,
me
First of all, I want to thank you for joining our household. You are an absolute treasure to us all; you eat with gusto, you play with great passion, you are loving and appreciative, you're a good sibling, you savor the simple joys of slumber; you are, in short, a Totally Awesome Kitten, and we look forward to many years of living with you as you grow from a spunky, adorable, troublesome kitten into a spoiled, fat, lazy housecat.
We love you.
This requires some explanation. "Love" is one of the worst words in our language, right up there with one called "God," since both are so confusing people literally kill each other and themselves over semantic issues every day. (Yes, it's true, in my species we often play MUCH too rough. I'm very proud of you and your sibling for being so wise about playing with each other without hurting each other. You're very good kittens.) So please bear with me and I'll try to help us both understand.
You were born a cat, and you are still a cat. Your species features lots of fur, and claws, and raspy tongues, and purring. Like my species, nipples are very important for you, especially at first. Unlike your species, my species has a lot less fur, not much claw, our tongues are larger and smoother, and we're really lousy at purring. (I'm really sorry about that. More on this later.)
You were born several months ago to a momcat who immediately decided you were the most important, beautiful, precious thing in the world. You yourself were going through a difficult, painful transition from a life inside her to a much more complicated and difficult life outside (yet alongside) her, but thanks to millions of years of evolution, you were equipped with instincts that helped you discover that something similar to all the joys and comforts you experienced in the womb could be found on the outside as well. You discovered nipples and purring, both of which I agree completely are absolutely wonderful, and kneading, and smells and sights and sounds and many other delightful things. You loved your mother, and your mother loved you, in the ways cats have loved each other forever.
Sadly, you and your mom had to part ways. Happily, you and one of your siblings were able to stay together and come live with us. We have some fur but no purr. We are happy to feed and pet you, but we do not lick you and our nipples are not only few and furless but useless to you.
This is what you are learning about love, not because you're a kitten but because this is what everyone is learning about love all the time: the love you crave deep in your bones and the love people can give you very seldom match up completely.
Part of me feels terribly apologetic every time you offer me your anus to lick, since I know among your species that's a very loving and important thing to share, yet sadly anus-licking is much further down the list of priorities for my species, and licking the anuses of other species is further down still. Part of me feels sad that I can't purr back at you when you're purring so sweetly at me, and yet the fact is I was not born to purr. I was born a human and shall no doubt die a human, weak on fur and unable to purr and not much use when it comes to licking animals of other species, even the ones I love. (Yes, I do sometimes lick members of my own species, but surprisingly seldom, although I know most of them are walking around most of the time wishing someone would lick them. It's complicated.)
If it's any consolation, we even have the same problems within my species. An astonishingly high percentage of us are born to crave love in ways that others of us find repulsive or even immoral. (How, you ask, can showing love be immoral? Good question; I don't have a good answer for that one.) We even develop loving needs over time that go far from what our parents initially showed us, yet are equally compelling...and equally elusive.
Some of us define love as "submission" and hopefully find someone else who defines love as "domination" in some roughly corresponding way. Others have deeply embedded in us definitions of love that involve food, music, sports, even violence, and so my whole species spends a ridiculous amount of time running around saying "LOVE ME! No, not that way, I said LOVE ME! What, are you stupid? That's not love; fer chrissake will you just hurry up and LOVE ME!"
And believe me, it's no less frustrating to be on the other end, to be constantly saying and showing "I love you! I love you! I love you!" to someone who keeps saying "Well, if you really loved me you'd show it to me differently," often in some secret way one has to guess at because our longings are so deep and so painful that we don't trust words with them. (Except those of us who are in love with words. It's kinda like purring for us.)
My grandfather used to say "I love you" by handing someone a book. (And so I've spent a lot of my life in bookstores.) My mother often said "I love you" by giving me food. (And so I've spent a lot of my life eating.) Some of the people who love me have said it by making me mixtapes, others have preferred to dance for me, and then there's a lot of different ways we use this stuff called "sex" (don't worry about it, it's not on your agenda and never will be) that's confusing but fun, and so on, and so on. I once loved someone who needed a big screaming argument once a week or so as part of her idea of "love" - I know I disappointed her, and it wasn't very easy on me either.
You're very young, but you've encountered a lot of this sort of thing already in your three months Outside. Sometimes you're hungry but it's not mealtime; you're gradually getting used to the idea that this doesn't mean anyone's going to let you starve. Or you're in the mood to wrassle with someone you love but your sibling wants to nap; this doesn't mean your sibling doesn't love you and wrassling, it's just a problem of timing.
(My species spends a lot of time crying over problems of timing and other arbitrary, circumstancial barriers to the flow of love. We're funny that way.)
The sooner you can learn this, the better: I will not lick you all over, but I will pet you a lot for all the same reasons your mom used to lick you all over: I love you. (And I'm always delighted when I see you and your sibling licking each other, giving each other catloving in ways we humans can't.) You have to get used to interpreting the intentions behind the actions of the people who love you. You will get love, there's a surprising amount of it out there (especially for kittens), but it seems like one of the most important parts of the game of life is trying to mix and match the love you crave with the love you can get.
In the words of one of our great poets (who celebrated his birthday the other day), "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need."
I ask your forgiveness in advance for all the times I won't purr back at you or lick your anus; I offer in exchange an indefinite number of expensive trips to the vet, litterbox cleanings, brushings and cat toys and other things humans can offer that cats can't. Most importantly I ask that, even as you suffer through a life tragically frustratingly low on anus- and fur-licking, you try to translate what I'm saying in my own language into what you long to hear in your own.
love,
me