Please don’t eat my kitty

Ok, so I went on my first date with Mark3 last weekend. I met him at a little Mexican restaurant. He seemed pretty cool and even had a few bonuses (owns a home), although also a few minuses (is a straight, single guy, trying to remodel it). I’ll be honest, we talked like we’d known each other for years even though the nature of our questions suggested only a of couple hours.

I’ll go ahead and skip to the cutest part – prior to the date, I had warned him that I’d been sick earlier in the week and had a bit of a cough. Predictably, I started hacking away at some point in the night (so sexy, right?). I finally stopped and composed myself. Mark3 then laid a cough drop in front of me.

…Mark3 had brought me cough drops. That is pretty damned adorable -- it’s thoughtful and the opposite of cliché. Big points for Mark3.

But (there's always a but), there is already one major issue with him. I asked him about his pets – he said he has a dog – and his dog is apparently a sweetheart to people but a vicious killer of all things non-human/non-dog. Mark3 had adopted her – which makes you like him all the more. Still, a killer dog? That's kind of a problem.

Backstory: The dog had been a Katrina casualty. She’d belonged to someone in New Orleans once upon a time, got lost in the storm and then lived on her own for six months. She probably had to learn to kill her own food to survive, so you can’t really fault her for being a wild little thing. Mark3 said she’s a great dog – she just loses her shit when she sees a critter of any kind. She’s killed squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, birds, and even a deer.

“She’s never actually eaten a cat – that I know of,” he said. “But she would if she had the chance. I’m pretty sure of that.”

He told me she’d caught the neighbors’ cats a couple times, and he’s had to pry the kitties from her doggie clutches to prevent any feline fatalities.

My kitty

“Um, I have two cats,” I told him. “They’re like my kids.”

“Oh,” he replied. He didn’t seem thrilled. Then he asked how old my cats are. I kinda felt like he was hoping my cats were on up there in years just in case this were to all work out. My cats are all more or less middle-aged, though – and his dog is too.

The rest of the night went really well; we seemed to hit it off, aside from our obvious pet incompatibilities. It did put a damper on the night, though.

My best friend later advised me not to get so far ahead of myself. But a deal breaker is a deal breaker, I told her. It’s really no different than if one person wants kids and the other person doesn’t or if one person wants to live on the east coast and the other person wants to live on the west coast. If compromise isn’t possible and the point of contention is important enough, then is there really any point in pursuing anything?

You can call me nuts, if you want, but I'd never give up my cats – not even for the most perfect man in the world. But – that said, I don’t often go out with guys that I like enough to go out with twice – and this one, I kinda do. Am seeing him again tonight. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment. Or maybe it’s just nice to have my faith in dating renewed for a minute.