If My Cats Were People

Karin Fuller Patton
2 min readMar 19, 2021

It was one of those realizations that, once it occurred, kept gathering speed.

In this case, the thought stream started at the litter box, when I recognized what kind of people my cats would be if they were human.

They would be the kind of people who don’t flush.

They might wash their hands after, but generally not until they’d first fingered my food.

With their own dinner, they’d spend ages trying to decide what to order, and then once it came, they’d take just a single bite.

They would suffer from chronic menu envy, wanting tastes from everyone else’s plates instead of their own. They would hound the waitress for fresh water, and once she brought some, would decide to save it for later.

My cats would be the kind of people who would call at 3 a.m. wanting to go get something to eat.

They would snatch reading material out of people’s hands or linger between them and the television.

They’d be the co-worker who stands at your doorway, scratching his back on the frame.

The one who follows you into the break room and sniffs your food.

They would spend their days sunbathing and fishing, and their main contribution to society would be of the decorative sort.

They would walk in on whoever was in the bathroom without knocking. If they realized it was someone they didn’t know, they’d spit, cuss and hide.

They would either be unemployed or in management. Or royalty.

Or they would be exterminators. Ones who love their work so much they consume it.

If my cats were human, they would seldom respect anyone’s personal space. They’d be needy night owls, roaming dark corridors in search of companions.

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Are you awake? Wake up. C’mon. Get up. Let’s go do something.”

They would drink directly from the carton or the sink.

They would ask to be hugged, and then would slap you for hugging them.

They would rearrange the ornaments on your Christmas tree without asking.

Knock things over on purpose.

Take pride in their messes.

If my cats were people, they would seldom need to use the bathroom until someone was cleaning the bathroom, then they’d have to use it that instant.

And then they wouldn’t flush.

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Karin Fuller Patton

Karin Fuller Patton is a newspaper columnist and short fiction writer who resides in Hinton, WV.