We were a dog family growing up in exurban Ohio.
Cats were thought of as a nuisance.
They caused allergic reactions and dug up plants.
At best, something an old spinster would keep as a pet, because they were low maintenance and could be virtually ignored for weeks.
I never hated cats, but I really didn’t get them.
It’s like cats have the worst public relations firm on earth.
Every negative stereotype gets repeated in movies, TV shows, even cartoons.
Little Havana, sadly, is a dumping ground for cats.
Moving into an apartment that doesn’t allow pets, turn your poor kitty out to the streets in Little Havana.
Kids lost interest in that kitten you got for Christmas – dump it around Calle Ocho.
Didn’t get your cat fixed and have a litter bigger than you are ready to take on – cast the poor critters off to fend for themselves in the blue collar neighborhood of Shenandoah.
So we were used to cats.
We talked to them.
We had a few run in the house.
We were never mean or anything, but we just didn’t take much interest in having any kind of pet – because we travel a lot and we’re always on the go.
(see part 2 tomorrow)