Mr. Humphries' Agony Session #1

WRITER'S NOTE: Since this is the first agony session on Housecat Wisdom, I'd like to thank my readers for their overwhelming show of support. Your questions are very much appreciated. Furthermore, I'd like it known that I pity you all, and that I'm ecstatic to be one borne of cat and not of woman. Mum's Milk, but you're a load of complainers the lot of you!

Yours Purringly,
Mr. W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)




Dear Mr. Fleez,

Why do some women stay with men who treat them bad? I have a friend who is always whining about her bf of three years, but she won't break up with him! How do you help someone who acts like they want help but never takes your suggestions?

Sincerely,
Weary of whining - NSW, Australia.


Dear Weary,

It's odd how often this question rises among humans. I'm frequently asked why a human will remain in a romantic situation with another human who treats her badly, but the parallel, why humans remain in friendships where the other is chronically whinging about that which they have no intention of improving, seems to go unasked.

As a cat, I see things unsullied by sentiment. Humans, however, aren't so fortunate. This is where the real problem lies; they can't make a single decision without the corrosive element of emotion. People are emotional creatures with a vast and eclectic sea of circumstances, both past and present. This sea shapes the way they think or, more often, don't think.

For many, cats especially, dealing with a person who dithers about in an abusive relationship is like listening to a deep gong: at first it's startling and the lingering vibration haunts you, but it takes only a few bashes to become unnerving and pointless. The future inclination is to avoid the clamour and move on. In the turbulent mix of human stupidity, however, there are bound to be some who enjoy the percussion. The echo stays with them, offering not disturbance, stress, or annoyance, but rather the comfort of feeling important and essential. They like being a part of someone else's drama. They stay around and listen; they offer a shoulder to cry on and are quick with suggestions, and above all they give the whiners what they want -- attention.

To a creature of reason, it seems inconceivable that anyone would deliberately gravitate to whiney people who have loads of emotional cargo. But ask yourself, what do these self-styled agony aunts do after they've listened and reasoned and begged and pleaded with their friends to get out of whatever circumstances in which they are "stuck"? They go whining to another about how taxing it is trying to reason with someone so unreasonable. When that person tries to offer them suggestions, they don't take them. They complain about their emotional parasites to someone else and thus become emotional parasites themselves.

I guess the most precise way to answer your question is this: The devil you know is always better than that which you don't. Many humans allow fear, a potent emotion, to govern their lives. Under its influence they'll stay in a bad situation rather than leave and be forced to face the unknown devils that await them. It feels safer and easier to stay with the familiar and rely on friends for emotional support.

If you are that friend, you are being sucked on by an emotional parasite who doesn't really want your help as much as your sympathy. You can do nothing to help such a person unless she is first willing to help herself. Alternately, if you are playing the emotional host, you're likely playing the emotional parasite as well. I suggest you assess your personal relationships, platonic or otherwise, and honestly evaluate the role you play in each. Until then I'll be waiting for another e-mail addressed New South Wales in which the reader asks basically the same question only regarding a friend who's always whining about how she can't seem to extract herself from the personal dramas of others.

Yours Purringly,
Mr. W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)



READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send your enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.

Curiosity May Kill You Quickly, but Sentiment Lingers Like a Plague.

Unlike cats, humans are highly susceptible to making mistakes. On occasion they may think they're doing the right thing only to realise that their actions are, in fact, excusable only when carried out by a drunken baboon on heroine. I hand the credit to their species' woeful lack of understanding in the field of human nature. Often they are so rapt in their own personal dramas that they fail to appreciate the penalty of consequence. The real problem, however, is when they become entangled in the drama of another.

There is an adage which reads: "A wise enemy is better than a foolish friend." I suppose that's true, but who's really the fool in that friendship? My self-proclaimed owner has one friend who can't seem to get things straight. Like a twit, she keeps trying to reason with her. She wasn't ignorant of this person's instability and abysmal judgment, yet she allowed herself to be drawn in and is now feeling the ravaging effects of associative negativity.

It reminds me of that which happened to Mildred, a large, football-shaped tomcat who used to prowl the neighbourhood every Thursday. He was in the habit of fraternising with Freckles, a lippy feral who eventually met with an SUV on the street below my flat window. I can't say if Freckles had a brain, but were I pressed to guess, the answer would be no. Then, Mildred was none-too-bright for hanging around with him.

One evening (I believe it was in spring) Freckles and Mildred met with a skunk. Mildred tried talking Freckles into running, but Freckles stubbornly refused. I don't need to tell you all the details, but the skunk found fault with something Freckles said and sprayed them both. After that Mildred wasn't allowed out at night. As for Freckles,well, when Sylvia got a whiff of him, she took off across the road, and, imbecile that he was, he followed. Ultimately he paid with his life.

Now, as I watch my self-proclaimed owner worrying late into the night, crying intermittently, and questioning what more could've been done to prevent her friend's foolhardy actions, I can't help recognising the lessons in these scenarios. Firstly, never challenge a skunk to a pissing duel, and secondly, if you're stupid enough to mix in with someone who does, you're both going to suffer.

READERS! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send your enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.

Differentiating Between Discerning And Demanding.

At home, I call the chorus when it comes to cat food. If I ask for a particular brand of sliced chicken in gravy, that is what I expect to get. Humans, however, are conniving monsters, and they'll try their best to switch up the brands when you're not looking. It is important, therefore, that a cat educate himself in brand specifics. (Ever since finding a brand-x tuna tin cluttering up the rubbish bin, I've become somewhat of a moist cat food connoisseur.)

I don't mean to sound extreme, but housecats do have rights. After all, we're the ones who purr and roll about on the floor for the entertainment of our self-proclaimed owners. You didn't think those difficult poses came naturally, did you? Well, they don't. It can take years to master cleaning one's hamstrings whilst perched on the mantle or the back of a rickety chair. Face it, that leg-up, back-bent, head-tucked-under position isn't nearly as cushy as a simple lick of the paw swipe of the ear. Besides, anyone could do that old cliché. No, a skilled cat deserves the finest tuna, and that is all they should be obligated to eat.

Furthermore, for the benefit of those who dismiss me as insufferably picky, I put it to you this way: If a skilled electrician took a job in a foreign country, demanding the salary equivalent of two thousand American dollars a week, he'd be a fool to disregard the exchange rate. The same it goes with housecats, myself in particular: If you're paying the piper, you'd better be able to recognise the tune for which you call. Otherwise, they'll play you any old rubbish, and you'll never know the difference.

READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send your enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.

Housecats Have it Tougher Than You'd Think.

This post has been removed for purrsonal reasons.

Yours Purringly,
W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short)

READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send your enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.