Stray Affections

She preferred animals over humans.

Their uncomplicated acceptance and unquestioning loyalty put her at ease. Animals were easy to be around, to simply be, around. She could be her plain, boring self, not have to try to impress or please or be something interesting or loveable. She gave them food so they loved her; she was the provider so they looked to her. Simple as that.

What she provided wasn’t difficult to give, only basic nutrition and her physical presence. No intricate emotional support or meaningful words were necessary. In fact, the choice of words was glaringly indifferent to them, so long as the tone was soothing and familiar. Animals loved her for who she was, not who she wanted to be or wished she could be. Animals gave comfort, warmth and softness, and a sense of being needed, being trusted and included.

Humans, on the other hand, were the opposite of all this. To humans she had to prove herself, or else choose to be alone, not part of the group, an outsider. Which she usually did, as she didn’t have the energy or will to work that hard to fit in. She had decided long ago that anyone who didn’t care to be her friend simply because of who she was, were not worthy of being her friend anyway. So she spent most of her time alone.

Animals were low maintenance. This was another reason she liked them. It was also the reason why, when it was strictly necessary to interact with humans, she preferred boys. Girls were too complicated. Their noxious gossiping, scheming and teeming made her nauseous. Boys could be callous, but not cruel. At least boys were pretty straightforward and could be talked to about science and do lab experiments without squealing when dissecting things.

Always one for the underdog or -cat, she befriended those humans lowest on the social totem pole. She found them to be much more interesting company than the constantly clambering-towards-the-top-by-stepping-on-others cool kids.

Down in the lower social strata existed a fascinating blend of eccentrics, intellectuals, and outcasts. Humans of mottled appearance and eclectic intelligence appealed to her much more than the suave empty-headedness of the social royalty. Much like the scraggly dogs, cats, birds and rodents she surrounded herself with, her human acquaintances were not exactly show dogs – more like strays of un-plumbed potential.

Entered for this week's Sunday Scribblings prompt: Eccentricity.