Sex and the Single Cat Mama

Before there was "Sex In the City" there was Cosmopolitan magazine. That racy single woman's guide to living and dating was de rigueur reading for every college girl back when I was in school.

If Cosmo was our bible, its then-editor, Helen Gurley Brown, was our patron saint, leading a whole generation of "mouseburgers" as she called us down the primrose path of possibilities in the post-sexual revolution '70s and '80s

Helen taught us everything we wanted to know- and certainly much more than most of us ever had occasion to practice --about love and life in the Disco Era.

I suspect that the wealth of information contained in Cosmo, and Ms. Brown's best-selling book "Sex and the Single Girl", were geared to a much worldlier and more promiscuous demographic than the circles I moved in.

So, for me, it was a little too much information. Yet, oddly, not enough.

You see. Helen neglected to address what a girl's to do when her love life is complicated by something-- or more precisely somethings --even hairier than a man. Yes, I am talking about cats.

Now perhaps she assumed, as many do, that a single woman who shares her bed with seven cats has already embraced her destiny and will likely not be embracing much else.

But even cat mamas receive the occasional gentleman caller. At The House Where The Black Cat lives, one gentleman calls more than occasionally. So the subject does come up from time to time.

The truth is dating with cats is not easy. I hate to generalize, but men as a rule do not like cats. They tend to be dog people. To be sure, a man, initially will pretend to like your pets, just like he pretends to like your family, your new haircut and your meatloaf. The truth, as they say, will out.

It pretty much came out at my house when he started leaving the door open so the cats "could get some air." I suspect if he thought they could catch swine flu, he'd be buying them all first-class tickets to Mexico.

To be honest, the kitties haven't exactly rolled out the red carpet for him. They actively ignore him in that passive aggressive way they have perfected as an art form.

But here's the thing. Nobody's bolted out the door yet. Not the cats. Not him.

I hate to jinx it, but let's just say things look promising.