My husband the cat hater

My husband the cat hater

I have been a cat person nearly all of my life. Over the years, my mother has owned (or should I say, has been owned by) at least 30 cats. I am besotted by them.

When my husband George and I were first married, I said to him that I wanted a cat. He said, “I hate cats. If you get a cat, don’t expect me to look after it, take it to the vet or feed it”.

In January 1990, my sister’s cat had six kittens. When I begged my husband to have one, he said, “No way!”. A week or so after the birth of the kittens, my Mum and sister were driving on a very raining day. At the corner of my sister’s eye, she spotted a very cold and bedraggled six week old kitten. Mum said that when they caught him, he was close to death and that it took them three hours to stop him from shivering.

A few days passed and Mum asked if I could 'kitten sit' her latest rescue. My Mum is a smart woman. She knew that once I have the kitten in our home, my husband cannot refuse me. When George came home after work, he looked at the kitten and said, “What’s this?" I explained that he would go back to Mum’s that evening. Then the strangest thing happened. George decided to give the kitten a name. He called her 'Sotiri', which means 'the saved one' in Greek. Needless to say, Sotiri stayed and he and George quickly bonded.

Then six months later, a gorgeous fluffy kitten appeared in our back yard. Again my husband instantly christened her. He named her 'Lolita'. So that was that. We now have two cats and they became the best of friends.

Lolita is very much a homebody but Sotiri would always be wandering about the neighbourhood. At one stage, Sotiri was gone for about three weeks and I was beside myself. So what does my husband 'the cat hater' do? He spoke to Lolita (in Greek, if you don’t mind) and said to her, “Please go and find Sotiri and tell him to come home because Marika is driving me crazy”. The next day sure enough, Sotiri was in my kitchen. Three months later, he disappears again. George again asked Lolita to find Sotiri. Yes, you guessed it! He turned up the next morning.

Lolita is now seventeen. My husband refers to her as 'the princess'. If I ask him who he loves more, me or Lolita, the answer is always the same “Lolita of course”. When I reminded him that he was a cat hater and that Lolita is a cat, the reply is, “She’s not a cat – she’s my girl!”.Lolita has been with us through the death of our parents, and my cancer.

We cannot imagine life without her. She is our angel from God.


True story by Marika Pythagoras of Australia



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Marika Pythagoras
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