Oh No! Am I Officially a Crazy Cat Lady?

I just ordered 19 crochet patterns for holiday and party hats for my cat. Does that push me over the line into official Crazy Cat Lady territory?

It’s not just that I ordered the patterns. I’m actually going to make them.

And, other than being ridiculously cute, the first thing I noticed was that the hats have ear holes—so you don’t have to subject your poor cat to having her ears smooshed.

Cat Santa Hat Pattern from Dasha House

See? I’m already rationalizing.

I could say the purchase combines three of my hobbies: crochet, photography, and indulging my cat obsession.

But when it gets right down to it, this was not a rational decision. Between writing and managing three sites, I don’t exactly have spare time.

But they promise I can whip up a hat in an hour or so. After 8:00 is usually my word-game time. I suppose it can become cat-hat crochet time instead.

Oh, and while I was at it, I also bought patterns for crocheted cat drink mats. I’m beginning to think the question of whether I’ve crossed the line has been answered.

Some hats need three colors. I’d probably need 25 or more colors of yarn. I don’t have room for 25 skeins—and before we moved, I donated all my yarn to a knitting group up north.

But again, I can rationalize.

We have a needlecraft group here that makes lap throws for people in the Care Center. Surely they have leftover yarn. Maybe even orange, purple, and black for Halloween.

I went looking for red yarn for a Santa hat. Apparently Patsy will be celebrating Christmas in lavender.

Then There’s the Packing Paper

Last night we got another shipment of cat litter. The box was stuffed with long strips of crumpled brown packing paper.

Most normal people would throw the packing paper away.

We arranged it in the living room for the cat.

We made little hiding places in it, and Patsy promptly settled in. She doesn't just play with the paper. She likes to sit there with it wrapped around her, as though we've thoughtfully provided her with a custom-made brown-paper nest. Hubby calls it her 'Cloak of Invisibility.'

This would be less incriminating if we didn't already have another giant mass of packing paper in the dining area.

So now there are two large piles of crumpled brown paper decorating our home. You have to dodge one to get into the living room and the other to get into the dining area.

I don't have room for 25 skeins of yarn. But apparently I have room for two piles of trash because my cat likes them.

And unlike the 19 crocheted hats, Patsy actually asked for the packing paper.

Which brings me to another thought. Maybe being a Crazy Cat Lady isn't about how many cats you have. Maybe it's what happens when you begin making perfectly reasonable household decisions based on whether your cat will approve.

If that's the definition, I may have crossed the line quite some time ago.

And I still haven't crocheted the first hat.

How about you? What's the silliest, most ridiculous—or most time-consuming—thing you've ever made or saved just because your cat loved it?

Epilogue: 

I gave this to Hubby, my editor, to read.

His assessment?

“You’ve been a Crazy Cat Lady since 1975!”