Tuna isn’t what I had on my sandwich, he’s my cat. I read an article a while back titled, “Why Your Cat Thinks You’re a Huge, Unpredictable Ape.” Not only is there so much validity in this, but it also dabbles in ideas we’ve discussed in class. The article reads, “How the hell is your cat supposed to know that you’re yelling at him because you want him to stop scratching the couch?” I’ve spent quite some time with Tuna trying to figure out this very same thing, and largely the answer has been that we need to communicate without communicating. It’s odd; he’s a cat, so by proxy, he’s not very smart. We found him at Huntington park beach, so he’s still quite wild. How do we communicate then? I had to take some hints from Buber, thinking about my cat as a Subject with a project. Tuna wants to claw and bite things, so I had to work around this rather than yelling and being a huge mean ape. I employed what the article refers to as “Feline feng shui.” In order to ensure our projects meshed, I had to play more with him and give him a scratching post so he could claw the heck out of it! Rather than looking at my cat as a snuggle factory, I have to really spend some quality time playing with him and caring for him, because after all, he is a living, breathing, eating, and yes, pooping creature! Tuna may be a cat, but he’s also been a good teacher.
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