Dear, dear Cairo. Poor, damaged Cairo. I meant to send a note yesterday for your birthday, but Life got in the way (as always). You are, however, a very.... ahem.... special cat, who deserves a letter all his own. In your own way, you help support my convictions about animal uniqueness, though not in the way most would assume.
You are, in a word, striking. You are an astoundingly beautiful cat, with your kohl-lined eyes (which, I suspect, is probably what led to your name in the first place), silver tabby stripes, and massive mitts for paws, which lead many to believe that you must be at least part Maine Coon.
Yes, this is what people see when they visit our house, when they are taken aback at your stunning physical presence, when they assume that you are a majestic beast, full of elegance and pride, as would fit a feline of your stature. You look like a miniature snow leopard.
Sadly, your cunning largely consists of your ability to dupe people into believing such things. I was taken in by your falsehoods as well (though I'd have still fallen in love with you, had you been truthful when we met). This is closer to a true representation of your personal felinity:
You were an older adoption, six years old, when you came to us. We understood there was likely to be some psychological and emotional baggage, as there always is in such matters. Your previous people gave you up when they decided they couldn't have a cat and a baby at the same time. We're not sure exactly how they treated you, but we do know that for a long time, you had a particular fondness for hiding, you shrunk back when anyone tried to pet your face, and you always - ALWAYS - think you are in trouble. This tells me a lot, in general, about how you were raised, and it breaks my heart.
How could anyone hurt this sweet guy?
All of that neglect, however, has unfortunately resulted in a certain.... stunting, we'll say, of social skills. In short, you're kind of a doofus.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love every silly inch of you, and you leave me laughing very healthy laughs on regular occasion. You wouldn't be You if you were anything more or less. You think you're in trouble whenever anyone else is, you exist in near-permanent fetal position, and you're probably the whiniest cat I've ever met. And then there's the sucking...
It wouldn't be so bad, Cai, if we could just get you *a* blanket or something. But, no, you seem obsessed with the idea of sucking on my shirt, or my robe, or my pants leg, or my shoulder... basically, on me. I get that you're damaged, sweet boy. I really, really do. But there are times when it goes too far. You become rather intrusive... you violate my personal space... you become, for lack of a better word, a bit "rape-y" with the whole thing.* Your eyes glaze over, you become intent beyond all admonishment or nudging away, and you get angry when you are denied. I'm sorry, kitty-son. I love you, but there are some boundaries that just can't be crossed.
All that said, I love you all the more for your flaws. I'm so sorry, Cairo, that we didn't get to you first, that you had to spend six years with people who obviously didn't appreciate you or treat you properly. I wish that we could have given you the home you deserved for your whole life. But the fact that you show these signs of emotional distress illustrates the conviction that I've had my whole life - you are an individual, you were shaped by your circumstances, your past is reflected in your present. We can keep working on the future, but for now, you are who you are because of who you have been. That shows a deep kinship, I think, between your psychology and my own (or any of ours, really). I wish you never had to go through those things, but I thank you for coming out of it the loving cat that you are.
With Love,
Me
*Please note, I'm not just throwing that term around willy-nilly. Cairo has a few wires crossed, it seems, but I'm leaving out details for your sake, and for his remaining dignity.
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