📝🐱💕Household Policy Update: I Do Not Have a Favourite Human

It has come to my attention that the female human believes I give more attention to the male human.

I can see how she has reached this conclusion.

She is wrong, obviously, but I can see it.

Yes, I sit with the male human rather often. I follow him. I observe him. I occasionally give him The Look, after which he mysteriously gets up and does something useful.

Food appears.

A door opens.

A blanket is adjusted.

A previously occupied chair becomes available.

This is not favouritism.

The male human is simply more exploitable.

There. I have said it.

I love both my humans equally. But loving someone and recognising their operational weaknesses are two entirely different matters.

The female human is considerably harder work.

She has opinions. She asks questions. She occasionally says things like, “No, Cotton, you’ve already had something.”

Already?

I am unfamiliar with this concept.

The male human, on the other paw, shows considerable promise.

I look at him.

He looks at me.

I look towards the kitchen.

He gets up.

Ladies and gentlemen, why would I interfere with a system that works?

Sometimes I do not even have to look towards the kitchen. I simply sit beside him looking small, white and tragically underprovided for.

Within moments, negotiations begin.

“Do you want something, Cotton?”

Of course I want something.

I am a cat.

This is where the female human makes her mistake. She sees me spending more time with him and assumes this represents greater affection.

It does not.

It represents return on investment.

If pressing one button produces a snack and another button produces a lecture about how dinner is in forty minutes, which button would you press?

Exactly.

This does not mean the female human is loved any less. Quite the opposite. I have enormous respect for her.

She is a worthy opponent.

When I stare at her, she sometimes stares back.

When I lead her towards the kitchen, she occasionally refuses to follow.

She has even demonstrated the deeply troubling ability to recognise when I have just been fed by the male human.

Frankly, she is management material.

The male human is more of a customer service department.

A very good one.

Available at short notice.

So yes, I may sit beside him more frequently. I may deploy additional head bumps. I may even produce the occasional particularly charming expression.

These are not romantic gestures.

They are buttons.

And I know exactly which ones to press.

But when the working day is over and all strategic snack opportunities have been explored, the truth is very simple.

I have two humans.

I love them both.

One is simply easier to operate.

The female human should therefore not be jealous.

She should be proud.

She is much less exploitable.

Although I remain confident that, with patience and continuing education, this can be improved.

Yours,

Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾