Robbing The Cat

My husband gave me some money the other day and said, “This is your cat’s Christmas present.  Go have him fixed.”  Some gift, huh, Tuck?  That just seems wrong, somehow.

My husband checked back with me recently, and asked me when I was having it done.  I didn’t have the courage to tell him I was having having a moral dilemma.  After all, Tuck had not been consulted, and I suspect he would have said, “No, No, and Heck No!” if he had the chance to give his permission.  So I sweetly catch him in a cage, take him to the Vet who will put him to sleep, and when he wakes up he will no longer hear the call of the wild?

Now, I know all the arguments about keeping your animal home, controlling the feral population, and making a cat more docile, not to mention the yucky way they mark their territory.  But it just seems wrong.  And Tuck would agree with me.

My husband gives the excuse that he doesn’t want Tuck to bring home a family.  I’m not sure that excuse holds water, as I haven’t seen too many males who have gone out and brought home children, willingly at least.  Cats don’t seem to be the romantic sort, males at least.  A quick screaming match and off to home quickly.

To make matters worse, Tuck is so trusting.  He will follow me around everywhere.  He tries to type when I do.  (Lots of little xxxx’s going across the computer screen.  I must teach him other keys.)  He finds me setting still and he flops across me like a dish rag, dangling at all angles belly exposed.  How can I betray that trust?

Perhaps they have cat birth control?  But try getting a pill down a cat’s mouth is like trying to nail jello to the wall: it’s going to slide somewhere else.

And I guess it would be useless to talk to Tuck about being celibate.  He doesn’t listen to me about anything else…

Yes, I will probably cave in and do the dastardly deed, but I will procrastinate about it a little longer.  Maybe the problem will go away.