The Cat Lady Complex
I have fallen into a feline rhythm this pandemic year and spent more time with the brothers Otto and Fritz von Kat, than any other beings. They are the only ones I have touched and they have taught me the art of seeking sun spots and the afternoon nap. Otto and Fritz are my lifeline this year.
We are known as cat ladies. People who live with cats believe that cats are amazing, especially their own. We also think that cats are magical beings who sometimes shapeshift. We wear cat scratches like badges of honor. Cat ladydom is a state of mind and obviously not gendered. My friend James is cat lady, and so is Jonathan from Queer Eye. And you can be a cat lady even if you only have one cat. Or only dream of living with cats.
Often, I wake up to my arms around Otto, and Fritz curled up in the crook of my knees. I get up slowly, try not to disturb them, stretch my arms over my head and balance on the balls of my feet. I make tea or coffee and curl up on the couch to write. One of them gets up and asks for breakfast. At some point Otto settles in next to me, demands belly and head rubs until he naps. (As I’m writing this, Otto is snoring next to me.) I transition from writing to my day job, still on the same couch, and most of the day unfolds quietly.
I met Fritz and Otto at the Pasadena Humane Society seven years ago. I stopped in just to look at cats because I missed them terribly. A few weeks prior my big bruiser boyfriend tuxedo cat Angeles had died. I was heartbroken, but thought it was too soon to adopt. With Otto and Fritz, it was love at first meow. I had already decided that I wanted to adopt two cats that were at least three years old, preferably a bonded pair, and, most importantly, indoor only. I brought them home the next day and those darlings slept on my bed that night.
LACMA, Figurine of the Goddess Bastet as a Cat, Egypt, 21st - 26th Dynasty (1081 - 525 B.C.), Sculpture, Bronze, inlaid gold, Gift of Varya and Hans Cohn (AC1992.152.51)
Ancient Egyptians were the ultimate cat ladies. Wealthy families dressed their cats in jewels and fed them fancy treats on golden bejeweled plates. When the cats died, they were mummified. As a sign of mourning, the cat owners shaved off their eyebrows. The mourning period for their cat ended when their eyebrows grew back. This is an image of the goddess Bastet as a housecat. Check out her earrings and the gold protection symbol eye of Horus on her chest. Bastet was the deity of home, cosmetics, cats, love, joy, pleasure, motherhood, childbirth, protection, women, fertility. Since cats see so well in the dark, Bastet guides the dead on the first leg of their journey in the underworld. No wonder the Egyptians spoiled their cats.
Although litter mates, the von Kat brothers are quite different from each other. Fritz, named after German Expressionist director Fritz Lang, is a sleek, athletic tabby. He has the mark of the “M” on his forehead borrowed from Peter Lorre with Bengal stripes on his legs. When he’s awake, he’s alert, tail twitching. He likes watching from above. Fritz often drapes himself on my left shoulder, purrs and purrs, as I rock and pat him like a baby. He also loves it when I dance with him. Fritz naps in hidden spots, deep in closets or under blankets. I lost the battle of the closet to Fritz. Now there’s a cat bed made of ruined sweaters on the top shelf. This year, Fritz discovered he can increase his fanbase on Zoom. He inserts himself, especially if I’m presenting in a webinar. He walks on the keyboard, often turns around and shows his rosebud, leaps on my lap, and pushes himself on my shoulder, tail like a whip in my face. If I try to send him away, he just interferes more. Now Fritz is part of my Zoom look.
Cat headbutts my pen
pushes himself on shoulder
purrs syllables
Otto is named after German Expressionist artist Otto Dix. Otto is calm. He has a limp from an injury that didn’t heal properly from before I met him. His movements are cautious. I can see him calculate before jumping on the couch or bed. (I pandemic-purchased stairs for him to get on the couch.) He circumambulates before settling in a spot. He hates being picked up, and adores the Roomba. Otto’s fur is mostly white, except for a swatch of tabby that starts on his left cheek and moves up his head and big patch on his back that looks like a cape. In certain angles, Otto resembles a snowy barn owl. Otto is the top cat and rules with a harassing look that commands. He’ll stare at me or Fritz until we do what he wants; move out of his spot, open the door so he can see out the screen door, rub his belly. He loves lounging in boxes as if he were on a divan.Sometimes he sits sphinx-like, haunches in the air, and earns his drag name: Sphinx Arizona. Otto is a butter-lover.
Sunday confession
I share buttered toast with cat
like ancient Egyptians
Utagawa Kuniyoshi, Japan, 1797-1861, The Origin Story of the Cat Stone at Okabe, Representing One of the Fifty-three Stations of Tokaido Road, late Edo period, 1847, triptych; color woodblock print, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, William Sturgis Bigelow Collection
Cats sleep a lot. Way more than I thought. Except for occasional bursts of energy wrestling or zoomies around the house, their paws landing like goat hooves, or my pandemic dance parties with Fritz on my shoulder. Back in the before times when I left home to work, I would imagine Fritz and Otto in all sorts of shenanigans around the house like Japanese nekomata. Nekomata are cats who appear to be domestic cats but are shapeshifters. They transform into humans or become ginormous cats and devour people. My favorite nekomata story is that they dance with a dishtowels on their heads. That’s how I pictured Otto and Fritz. Making their own DJ cat videos and posting them on TikTok. Granted, I didn’t see any evidence when I came home. Perhaps they still make videos when I’m out of the house. Who really knows what these magical shapeshifters do?
According to the Urban Dictionary, a cat lady is a woman that finds too much happiness in her cats.
Wait a minute, define too much happiness. And who gets to judge excessive joy?
This often results in the following actions:
Dresses up her cats
I never dress up my cats. We have a covenant. I respect their dignity and they let me trim their claws with relatively no fuss.
Takes many videos and pictures of them
They have their own Instagram: @otto_fritzarefriends
Tells other people stuff about her cats that they do not care about
True. And, honestly I don’t care. I send out a New Year’s Card from the three of us that is mostly pictures of the von Kat brothers. I do have friends that love talking about animal companions, especially my friend Eszter. We call each other specifically to gab about our animal family.
Thinks that her cats are really intuitive
Well, of course they are.
Wears clothes with cats on them
Only in private as pajamas. Oh wait, do masks count? I have six cat themed masks. And there’s that cute tunic in spiral cat print fabric from Matrushka…
Not lonely because she has her cats
100% and absolutely true.
I bought this fab cat lady ensemble, including the mask at Matrushka in Echo Park.
To say that this year is unprecedented is not an exaggeration. My daily two hour commute is gone. The slower pace of movement contrasts with more work. At the beginning, it felt like we all started a new job, and no one knew how to do it. Then there is the imbalance. Essential workers and those that lost their jobs. Some share space with too many, vying for the best internet spot for school or work. Parents juggling jobs with their kids’ school. Some of us by ourselves, barely seeing another human, our skin starving for touch. All of us fearful. The worst part is that so many people have suffered tremendous loss without the rituals and traditions that help the grieving process. My darling Otto and Fritz slowed and quieted my days, their gentle purring and snuggling fundamental to how I cope with anxiety and depression. We know each other’s daily rhythms. I think about the healing power of communion with other beings, the joy of cohabitating with my darlings. I write freely and duly, with full cognition of the symbolism and associations that come with societal labels: I, Alicia Vogl Saenz, am a cat lady.
What or who has been your lifeline?
PS: To all my cat ladies, tell me a feline story in the comments. You know I want to hear it!
PPS: Thank you to Catherine Arias who filmed Fritz Zooming.
