Hubby wasn’t a cat person until a feral had a litter in the garage. Now, he frets over them 24/7. He put fluffy spreads over his pool table so they can have a nice comfy bed in the tv room. Two are snoozing on it now. One of the now grown fixed males brought in 3 abandoned kitties a couple weeks ago and guess who is already naming them.
My father was the same way. He didn’t hate cats, but when one was given to us I don’t think he really wanted it - especially when it cried constantly the first night. Daddy liked his booze now and then, and that night when we were in bed, we heard him saying ‘I’m going to flush that cat down the toilet if he doesn’t shut up!’
Fifteen minutes later we heard, “Here kitty kitty; come here and let me pet your pumpkin head!”
After that, the cat was HIS for the next 15 years; he worried over it constantly - and I think he was more worried when that cat didn’t come home at night, than when we kids didn’t ;-)
“Hubby wasn’t a cat person until a feral had a litter in the garage.”
My hubby wasn’t a cat person until we met in the ‘90s. We were living in Hawaii and they have a terrible stray cat problem — at least they did in the ‘90s. I’d adopted one. He became a cat person right away. Now we have six and he spoils them and also “frets over them 24/7”. He insisted that we buy a king size bed so there’s enough room for them.
I created a monster. We have no life. Our retirement is ruined. We can’t travel. Vet bills are appalling. Could I get rid of one of them? No; they’re family. (I wish I could.)