Friskens here. I don’t normally meow a diary, but I have words that need to be expressed.

 

You ever have that feeling that a part of your body acts with a mind of its own? Unless you’re a cat, you are imagining things. You see, although a cat’s tail doesn’t have a conscious mind (I’m not convinced it doesn’t), it does have its own instincts and desires completely separate from its host. This is why the tail can be mad while the cat is purring. They aren’t the same entity!

 

And for some reason, my particular fluffy monstrosity has a naughty streak. Every time it gets close to anything the tail smacks it. You giggle, but I don’t think you understand my delima. It hits smiling faces ruining my petting session! It knocks over glasses getting my kicked outside! And if that isn’t enough, my dang tail will commit suicide and hit me.

 

And no matter how many times I punish it, it keeps coming back for more. I don’t think it can feel pain. Biting does nothing. Claws only keep it down for so long. Then it pops right back up to tickle my nose. Taunting me. Yeah. Now you understand why cats attack their own tails with vehemence. We aren’t that sadistic. We just have a rebellious body part that needs to go.

 

Yes, I have considered purposefully getting it chopped off. It wouldn’t take too much work to get it caught in my person’s table saw. Then I’d be free! A cat can dream.

 

But tailless cats are ugly. I’d never have the courage to actually go through with it. Not to mention, my tail will occasionally help me out. It is quite good at giving me an extra hiss. And by that I mean a poofed up tail works as good as a second hiss at scaring off intruders. I’m afraid of my own tail, I know there’s a reason to fear it. Other cats understand. The tail is the real threat.

 

I must also confess that my tail helps me keep my balance. I get distracted sometimes but my tail will always counterbalance and keep me from falling. Not because it cares about my pain, mind you, it is simply protecting its own integrity. Tails are extremely prideful and hate it when their host falls over. It’s extraordinarily superficial. I have to continuously keep it clean or it gets extra angsty. I swear, half my hair balls are because of my tail fur.

 

So yes. I hate my tail. It gets me in trouble and causes me pain. But it is also beautiful and I will love it through all my nine lives. Or maybe just seven. Can’t let it get too comfortable now can I?

 

This is Friskens signing off now. For the humans reading this, be sure to pet your cats (but not too much) and feed them treats. Give extra care to the tail. An unhappy tail makes for an unhappy household. And forgive me for what my tail does in the future.

 

Photo by Amy Chen

 

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