Soooooo! I now have two cats living with me; Ms. Kitty & Paddy (OK, and Catie, & her 18 year old son Michael); that never cease to amaze me.
Ms. Kitty, an alpha female rescue cat, if there ever was one, is beyond prickly; yet she has a penchant for men, knowing that they will satisfy her needs way before the bitch mistress (another alpha) ever would. Ms. Kitty plays a false need for affection. She rolls over on her back, thinking, this is what the male human wants. She detests the touch, but knows this is a way to her needs, and a less bothersome way to a sense of security. She plays cute; to achieve the immediate gain... (TREATS!!!!).
Yet in her odd way... She loves her boyz!! Obviously her former owner/lover/master was a heterosexual male, who succumbed to the wiles and wills of a bitch female human Succubus, forcing her into the pet crate, and then the unstable and rightfully terrifying world of the animal pound. Knowing a human woman did this to her, thoughts arose such as: "Revenge is mine!" sayeth Ms. Kitty! (When I first met Catie, Ms. Kitty's new mistress, she was covered with scars, from all of the "affectionate" encounters the two had shared.)
The gay male, was new and different, stable and loving, loyal forever; yet forgiving of all of her built in defense mechanisms. Here, now, was safety.
Paddy is a submissive rescue male that craves contact and affection. Start typing on your laptop, naked in bed, and he will climb on your chest (blocking the view), knowing that the sound & vibration of your beating heart brings comfort, and satisfaction, and a sense of security. He'll nestle your hand so that you scratch him behind the ears. He craves the affectionate touch. He is the antithesis of Ms. Kitty, and all male/female stereotypes.
Ms. Kitty craves the open door; an opportunity to explore the back porch; or the front door hallway that lies beyond. She doesn't want a jailbreak, actually. She wants to know and own.
Paddy is terrified of these open doors; memories of being removed; dismissed; discarded; abandoned at the animal pound. Mr. P would rather stay safely ensconced in the security of the warm new home, thank-you-very-much! And I respect that. I understand and empathize with that need.
You sleep; Paddy will find the comfortable crook of your body. You turn; he will find the next comfortable nook. If your dreams torment you; Paddy will wait them out, and nestle against you allowing his wagging tail to comfort and massage your skin into a gentle, mystical, magical state of mind.
These two do not like each other. When Paddy first appeared, I would hear hisses and growls down the hallway that Friedkin could have used in "The Exorcist". There would have been no need for Mercedes McCambridge. All the sounds he would have needed, were emanating right down my hall. Paddy, on the other hand, was terrified! His cries were almost human; "HELLWWP! WHEROWWWWES?"
They have now settled into a truce of mutual disdain. ("Disdain" is actually a very true cat emotion)
Anyway, I don't know what my point is. I do know that I love these two felines that have won me over: heart, body & and soul.
And this, too, Ms. Elaine Paige:
if you prefer, Ms. Betty Buckley:
(BTW, a former BF of mine is in the background of this)