When asked, “Who’s your daddy?” I know of only four children, two sons and two daughters, who can rightfully claim to be a child of Yours-Truly. On the other hand, if you listen to my wife talking to our house cats, you would think I had fathered THEM too.
At times, ‘tis true, I am affectionately referred to as “the mean man,” serving as a firm reminder to the cats that they had best stay out of trouble and off the dining room table. But when the cats are behaving themselves, and they become accepting of their role in life as one relegated to being cuddled, coddled, cradled, and baby talked to, it is then that I am simply “Daddy.”
So how is it that a guy like me, that doesn’t even like cats, ends up being “daddy” to a pair of misfit, no-good, spoiled and lazy felines named Calvin and Beau?