Attention all, Iíve found my dream man and Iím not afraid to say ĎI love youí. You heard me correctly, I found him, the man that makes me happy. Heís a red head, but I donít judge. Heís a little hairy, but everyone has their flaws. He sleeps a lot, but then who doesnít really love their dream world? Yes, that right, the love of my life is my four legged, extremely fluffy, five year old ragdoll cat Dexter. Now before you get any messed up ideas about bestiality, by no means do I have sexual feeling towards my feline friend. Actually saying that out loud made me hate myself a little bit, but no, my point is he is the one man that has never failed to disappoint me and I wish to find the human version of him before itís too late.
Dexter came into my life on my nineteenth birthday, he could fit in my hands and he wanted nothing more than to hide away under my bed and come out when I rattled the biscuit box-not unlike a real man. Unlike my previous cats, Dexter never scratched me and he never brought large reptiles into the house seeking for admiration at his latest find. He loved to sit with me, but didnít need to be smothered with attention, which is great because for me an excess of hugs can bring on some serious anxiety. He understood my love for a harmless prank (of course not at his expense, because like me-he doesnít take that lightly) and would often play little tricks on my mumís snobby husky. I distinctly remember him sitting on the couch, a place Nala (the husky) was not allowed to go. Dexter would peek off the edge as Nala lay, bitter, on the floor of the lounge. He would slowly lower his paw and take a friendly pat to her ear whereby he quickly retreated to his Ďsleepingí position leaving the black and white beauty very confused. This would go on for quite some time before Nala grew tired and placed my cats head in her mouth. She never actually did anything more other than place her mouth around Dexterís head, but I think he understood her intentions-after all when i woman has had enough you know itís time to stop. Thatís what I love about Dexter, he just knows when it is time to let something go, when itís time to stop playing and take it all seriously. He just knows.
How could you not love him?
I do have to admit Dex does have some flaws, but then so does everyone so naturally I look past them. I have a serious phobia of moths, and while he doesnít bring in large piece of wildlife like my other pets, Dex does have a fascination with bringing me moths (dead and alive) and insists with that god awful whining until I notice. There have been times Iíve been enjoying an after dinner cup of tea, only to look sideways and notice my cat with a giant black moth protruding from his mouth, almost like itís been strategically placed there representing his vow of silence. Safe to say Dexter has taught me ways in which to make a hasty exit from a space. Dex is also known for his silent but deadlies, a trait many of my ex boyfriends were also well known for. The only difference is this, at no point does Dexter seek to engulf me with his scent, he does not giggle with pride over his mischievous gas leak and he does not need to blame it on anyone else because we all know the cat really did do it.
Like other males, Dexter does have selective deafness and an undying fascination with his private area and the need to touch it all the time. Of course, being the responsible pet owner I am, Dexter no longer obtains the physical proof of his manlihood, but all the other traits still remain. There have been several occasions when I have called him to come and sit with me and he has merely cocked an ear at the general sound of my voice, turned his head and gone back to sleep. Or sometimes, heíll even make out like he is coming to comfort me, to show me affection and love, yet when he arrives he merely lets off a gas leak and has to leave himself (you know as I write this, the similarities to past relationships are becoming clearer and clearer). There have been many times I have caught Dexter with his face in his own crotch, legs splayed for the world and giving no thought to what others may think of him. Iíve called his name in disgust and he, I kid you not, raises his nonexistent eyebrows at me and continues to lick his own crotch (an ability I hear is envied by all men).
Then he does amazing things, like comes to sleep beside me on nights Iím feeling like i want the world to swallow me whole. He just seems to know when everything isnít going the way I want it too. Before I moved away, he spent an entire week by my side, as if he could sense that I wouldnít be around anymore. But I think my favourite thing about Dexter is that he never argues with me. Even if he knows that Iím making no sense and Iím being completely irrational, he just accepts me for who I am. I love that about him. So yes, Iím aware that I just wrote an entire article about my cat and I know qualify for top spot in Ďcrazy cat ladyí world however, I think I needed to say this out loud to make myself aware. Iím so quick to judge others around me for their flaws, and I always have these expectations for what a relationship is supposed to be. I think the next time I find myself falling head over heels for a real man, I should think of Dex and what he has taught me. Although he emits putrid gasses and provides random deliveries of pure fear, his good traits outweigh the bad. He is who he is and heís proud of it, he wears his ranga coat with pride and flashes his privates without a care in the world. Sure, he annoys me at times, but his love and support is something I truly treasure. I think, when I find my real life Dexter, my life will be complete.