My Cat Is My New Baby

My Cat Is My New Baby

Thierry Mugler: Nothing Is Ever Too Extreme

My partner and I recently took the plunge and got a cat. We named her Lilian because of the original song by Tchaikovsky, “Lilacs, roses and violets”. My husband says my reaction to buying her is pretty standard: “I know what you should do to that thing.” Or, if I’m feeling particularly randy, he has an interesting response (a phrase I’ll share later). “You know, just one thing, please.” This was back in January, the first month for three-and-a-half-months that we were together; Lilian has been a part of our family for just over eight weeks.

For the eight-week period from January until February, Lilian was my little companion in my home, and in my world, and I had a pretty unique relationship with her. I had read and watched many books about house-training and caging cats (I have a long-standing love for the movie Cagney & Lacey), and I am an advocate of natural and organic cat care. I was already an animal lover, and that was a no-no in our house. My partner had not been raised in the household; he spent his teenage years in a youth facility, where he was not allowed outside. I made it clear that I did not want a house with a cat, even one I was house-trained. In fact, when he asked me if we could get a dog, I said flat-out, “Absolutely not! I am not having that kind of relationship with my child!”

Lilian was a curious little creature who had found a way to eat the same food as our baby. I was happy for her because she was so different than my standard-issue cat, who would never be satisfied with the same meal three days in a row. She was a bit more social, and she didn’t want to eat. She wasn’t afraid to

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