Animagus Aurora

From time to time, I have meltdowns based on my fear of becoming a cat lady.

Then I remember that I don’t have any cats.
And I feel better.

But then I am reminded of my rapidly approaching thirtieth birthday, coupled with my perpetual single status, and the panic starts again.

Then I get asked out by three different guys, three days in a row.
And I am comforted that there is hope for me yet.

Until I watch cat videos and realize that, although I may not own any cats, my cat-like mannerisms have already transformed me into a McGonagall-like cat lady. I know, I know. Where I went wrong was watching cat videos in the first place. But what’s done is done, and I am horrified to realize that those cat videos have infiltrated my psyche. I have become Animagus Aurora, the cat-less cat lady.

When I peruse the online dating profiles of my inevitably terrible matches, this is a remarkable likeness to my reaction:

And when those terrible matches want to take me on a date, sometimes I have to resort to playing dead:

And on first dates, when guys try to get too friendly too soon, they may get some of this action:

But I can be all-too-easily won over with chocolate:

And once a man earns my trust (with said chocolate), I melt into a snuggly cuddle monster. “Pet me!”

The secret is out. There is no fighting it. My cat lady status is official, even sans cat ownership. In light of these evidentiary videos, I regret to inform you, dear readers, that I have clearly become…

Animagus Aurora, the cat-less cat lady

Kissing Goodbye to My Inner Cat Lady

For Valentine’s Day, Bryan took me out for dinner to a wild game place where they serve not only the usual “exotic” meats of elk, buffalo and venison, but also kangaroo, yak, llama and more. I was told that the llama tastes like lamb (which is my favorite meat), so that was my choice. It turned out to be a good one.

As we ate, Bryan and I naturally started talking about different meats. And animals. And then pets. Bryan had every pet imaginable growing up, from hamsters to hermit crabs. I never had any pets as a kid, but I recently fostered a kitten for a weekend as I considered finally getting a furry companion of my own.

Bryan asked me why I would want a cat, so I told him stories of a stray black cat from my college years. That cat was skittish with everyone else, but sometimes if I sat cross-legged on the driveway, she would circle me several times, getting closer with each revolution, until she would tentatively step into my lap and curl up there.

I loved holding that black cat, stroking her as she nestled in the folds of my knees. Her whole body would vibrate as she purred. Snuggling with her made me feel comforted and loved. “Physical affection is important for me,” I told him in conclusion.

After dinner, Bryan surprised me with tickets to Cirque du Soleil. I had been once before, but it was in college, and only a few sideshows had come rather than the whole troupe, so I was ecstatic. We saw their Amaluna show, and it was fantastic! From the costumes to the music, the ambiance of this green-blue-and-purple peacock-themed production was as mesmerizing to me as the acrobatics themselves.

Bryan isn’t much of a hand holder, but for the rest of the evening – from our conversation at dinner forward – his hand was in the small of my back, guiding me as we walked, or on my knee, silently communicating his presence during the show. He wrapped his arms around me during intermission, and he kissed me sweetly at the end of the night.

As the evening drew to a close, Bryan hugged me to himself. With my head on his chest and his arms around me, he pressed his lips to my forehead and murmured in a sleepy voice, “Think you still need that cat?”

I smiled into the softness of his shirt. No, I don’t think I do.

Authentically Aurora