I'm pretty obsessed with Yoshi, but he just isn't marriage material.
I recently read a story about a British woman happily married to her two cats, Lugosi and Spider. I wasn't as shocked as some of the commenters were since I'm familiar with the concept of feline/human marriage. When I was 7, I married my best friend Donna, to my cat, Boris. I wasn't an ordained minister, I just pronounced them husband and wife. Unfortunately their marital bliss was short-lived, and the marriage annulled when Donna's mother called her home for dinner.
I'm pretty obsessed with my cat Yoshi, and while I might create a number of sleeping places just for him, and feel weirdly validated when he actually chooses one, I wouldn't marry him even if he begged. Though most of his begging is reserved for tuna-water and/or to be let into rooms he's forbidden to enter.
I'm grateful to have such an awesome cat, but the truth is that no matter how much I adore him, Yoshi is kind of a narcissistic jerk and would make a terrible husband.
Here are the top 8 reasons why I won't marry my cat.
1. He's gay and that's OK.
I love my gray gay cat. The problem is that Yoshi is a feline misogynist and is constantly trying to murder our girl cat Allie. He's not allowed in the same room with her, but that doesn't stop him from shoving his paw under the door and blindly swiping his paw back and forth. But it loses its humor when you realize that Yoshi isn't playing, his claws are out—he wants Allie dead.
I love both my cats, but if Yoshi were successful in his evil plan to become an only cat, he'd get caught, brought to trial and spousal privilege might be invoked. I need to be able to testify against him in a court of law for Allie's sake.
2. Yoshi has a twisted sense of humor.
He loves to "fake spray" meaning that he pretends to be peeing on something in order to mark it, but without any urine coming out. We had an actual sprayer once and trust me, it wasn't funny. It was awful and no amount of Nature's Miracle could get the smell out.
Spraying is never funny and neither is making track marks with your ass after using the litter box, but Yoshi thinks they're hysterical. Cats can't laugh but Yoshi can smirk. The ability to laugh together is important for any marriage to work. Yoshi and I just don't get each other's sense of humor.
3. When Yoshi uses the litter box, he proudly stinks up the entire house, forcing his staff (me and my boyfriend) to do an immediate cleaning.
He reminds me of those people who have no problem leaving the bathroom door open while they do their business. I wouldn't marry someone like that either.
4. He's deliberately clumsy.
He once knocked a glass of water all over my computer, ruining it, and didn't even offer to pay for a new one. If knocking stuff off tables was an Olympic sport, he'd have a gold medal. He's just not partner material.
5. Yoshi is the epitome of vain and self-centered.
Sure, he's probably one of the most beautiful cats in the world with his fluffy gray fur and white accent touches on his neck, feet, tummy and fascinator triangle on his nose. He's pretty spectacular and he knows it. But he's dick because of his great beauty and doesn't give other people's feelings a second thought. He has no problem walking over my computer, sticking his furry butt in my face, and eating my hair.
It doesn't matter if I don't like it, he does and he's going to do it. He also insists on scratching the couch, following me into the bathroom (even when I insist I don't need an escort) and then when in the enclosed bathroom space reacts like he's insane and starts to literally bounces off the walls. He's the definition of an narcissistic asshat.
6. Yoshi has some fetishes I just can't get into.
Biting for one. I have told him over and over again not to bite, but it doesn't sink in; his sharp teeth are the only things that are sinking in anywhere, and usually in my flesh. He's also into eating plastic, even though by now he must realize that eating plastic (and this includes bread wrappers, plastic ties, bags) equals vomiting and toxic eliminations. He doesn't seem to care.
He also has a fixation with boxes. He loves sleeping, sitting, and playing in them. I'm more of a "Don't box me in" kind of person. I like sleeping in a bed, not in a box perched on top the bed.
7. I don't think I could be legally tied down with someone as needy and kneady as Yoshi.
He always wants affection, and to be the center of attention. If you are having an affection session with him, it will start out with him kneading you until you bleed. It won't help if you try to steer his claws towards a pillow or blanket, he still manages to target your most sensitive and vulnerable body-parts. Same goes for jumping from or on to you. Men, cover your private parts as they make a perfect springboard for Mr. Yoshi.
8. He doesn't have a job.
Yoshi's day consists of demanding food, eating, pooping the equivalent of three cat's worth, sleeping, sliding on the wood floors, playing, and never once does he go on the Internet or crack open the newspaper to look for a job. And there are actually a lot of jobs he could do: model (he can't take a bad picture if he tried and naturally knows how to America's Next Top Model smize,) artist (his throw-up pieces could rival the British artist Millie Brown's easily), and nurse—sure it may not seem like his walking over your stomach when you just had abdominal surgery is healing, but trust that Nurse Yoshi knows what he's doing.
In the end, Yoshi would rather be a prince than a partner. Besides he refuses to move his tail off the keyboard and won't let me type anything else. Jerk!