How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Cats

How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love Cats

By Joey Mills

I am a dog person. I always have been. By that I do not mean I am some sort of mutant canine-human hybrid barking in eternal terror while trying to comprehend the complex emotions of our existence. I mean that for as long as I can remember I have always favoured dogs over cats.

It has been conditioned in me from birth. Not only did we have Charlie the Caen terrier running around the house for almost as long as I can remember, but television leaned heavily towards the bark over the meow. Catwoman oedd y dihiryn mewn anturiaethau Batman yn, Garfield spent his life sarcastically tormenting the endlessly cheerful Odie while whatever Jerry had done to Tom, ymdrechion cyson y feline yn lladd ei gelyn blewog yn ymddangos yn ormodol yn y eithafol. On the other side of the fence, Scooby Doo solved mysteries, Snoopy was the coolest friend any budding Charlie Brown could ask for and even Superman himself, the hero of heroes, was aided and abetted by Krypto the Superdog. See to my young eyes dogs were not just good pets, they were super.

So when it was put to me by my lovely partner that we should get a cat I was understandably sceptical. Not only did we already have a dog, albeit one whose superpower appeared to be destroying household items and urinating on furniture, but I had never trusted cats. "Beth os bydd yn ceisio fy daro â gordd?"I cried, to no avail. "Beth os ei fod yn bwyta ein holl lasagne ac yn galw ein henwau cŵn?"Rwy'n plediodd. Rwyf hyd yn oed yn chwarae y cerdyn "Rwy'n alergedd i gathod", which was in fact no lie. Pryd bynnag yr oeddwn o gwmpas tŷ fy gyn-gariad a byddwn yn gweld y gath byddai fy nhrwyn yn rhedeg, byddwn i'n fod yn tisian dair gwaith eiliad a byddai fy llygaid yn rhedeg cronig. Ar ôl i mi dorri i fyny gyda hi sylweddolais nad oedd bai y gath yn ôl pob tebyg, but I digress.

Wrth dyfu awydd fy nghariad newydd ar gyfer cath wedi cymryd i ddangos i mi lluniau o gathod bach. I kind of nodded along, acknowledged their cuteness and thought nothing of it until the day I returned home from work to find a travel case on our ironing board. I peeked inside and I melted. Not literally, Nid oeddwn yn hollol bod alergedd. But the tiny little ball of white and black fur that squinted back at me strummed at my heartstrings straight away. Rwy'n rhoi fy mys allan a dweud rhywbeth fel "Felly mae gennym cath. When were you going tell me? Rydych yn gwybod nad oes gennym le i OH FY DDUW shes DALIAD FY LLAW YN EI PAWS!"Dyna oedd ei. Mae dyn 26-oed oedd na allai fod wedi bod yn fwy o berson ci pe bai wedi eu hachub o gwymp siafft gan Lassie oedd yn gwbl mewn cariad â hen gath fach bedair wythnos a fyddai'n dod yn adnabyddus fel Dirgel.

Dydw i ddim yn mynd i ddweud nad oedd rhwystrau i fy statws newydd o hyd fel yn hoff cath. A healthy dose of HayMax was needed to overcome the pangs of my allergy to the feline brethren. It turns out no matter how cute they are, I am still allergic to cats. And I certainly never stopped being a dog person, er gwaethaf fy ysfa achlysurol llethol i adael ein ci y tu allan i dŷ rhywun dros nos gyda nodyn yn dweud "Rwy'n gobeithio y byddwch yn cael dodrefn sy'n dal dŵr ac yn fwy amyneddgar nag yr oeddwn yn ei wneud". But Mystery has become a wonderful part of our lives.

Her meow is a sweet little note, llai na chasgliad Oscar Leonardo Di Caprio ond gwerth chweil i glywed. And I will never cease to become a cooing, blithering mess every time she wraps her tail around herself when she is cold. Os ydych chi erioed wedi bod yn berchen cath, byddwch yn gwybod yn union beth rwy'n siarad amdano. If not then I would heartily recommend it. Even if like me you need a bit of HayMaxTM to stop you sneezing every time you curl up with the little treasure.