Green-eyed Monster

One fine afternoon, I was sitting on the couch, reading. My cat, Isis, was laying across my lap, stretched out, purring, and utterly enjoying herself.

The jiggle of the key in the door (my husband was home from work) prompted her to perk up, and a low growl started building up in her chest. She hopped down from the couch, crouching in the middle of the living room, her growl getting louder and more insistent as she looked from the direction of the door and back to me.

When my husband finally made it across the threshold, the sound of the door and his feet prompted Isis to run to her usual spot behind the couch, growling and muttering all the way.


Now, I’m no animal behaviorist, but, apparently, there are some deep seeded feelings between my cat and my husband.

The funny thing about all of this is that, before I got married, I didn’t even like cats. I come from a long line of cat-haters, in fact, and didn’t want to be within ten feet of a stupid cat. So, for this cat to have claimed me, and not him, bothers my husband like you would not believe. He goes so far as to say that he hates this cat and would give her away if he had the chance. I’m smarter than all of that, however, and know that’s not actually the case. Deep down, he loves her and wants her to love him too.

It seems that I have two green-eyed monsters on my hands.

If only we could all just get along!