The Day I Fell In Love with Mickey

I hate cats. No, the more correct term would be afraid of. I’m afraid of those feline creatures, so much that whenever I see a likeness of a cat, I hurry off to the other direction. And when I say likeness, I mean anything that is remotely close to a cat. Hello Kitty is not an exception. Whenever somebody gives me a Hello Kitty item, I vehemently refuse to touch it. I don’t care if they could see that I am not pleased with their choice of gift, I won’t lay a hand on it. They can call me rude but isn’t more uncouth to give somebody something they are terrified of? Yeah. That’s what I thought.

I am not much of a dog fan either. I got bitten by one mean supposed-to-be man’s best friend and that one experience is enough to turn me off canines. Compared to cats, I have really nothing against them. I figured my neighbor’s vicious dog thinks it is expected of him to sink his sharp teeth on anyone who comes through the white gate since I was not the only kid in the neighborhood who was bitten. However, you still won’t see me cuddling a puppy no matter how cute or lovable or how much of a darling it is. Sure, Snoopy is cute and the black and white combination is such a nice touch but Charlie Brown’s extrovert beagle does not do a thing for me.

While everybody else is filling their room with Hello Kitty and Snoopy stuff like pillowcases, lamps, and clocks, I was searching for an animal character that is perfect for my taste. I said no to Garfield, of course. Donald Duck has a weird voice. Bugs Bunny is too smart for my liking. Tweety Bird is so childish. Taz cannot talk and eats garbage. Winnie the Pooh always seems like stuffing honey into his mouth. Eeyore is depressing. I could go on and on.

I’m sorry if you idolize some of the characters I mentioned, I’m not trying to start a fight with you. I’m merely stating facts as to why I did not choose them as my animal hero. I may come across as a picky person but if I have one shot at choosing my favorite animal cartoon character I might as well be as selective as I can be.

I woke up earlier than usual one Saturday morning and instead of Huckleberry Hound singing “Oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine”, the TV screen was all about Mickey Mouse. I heard of Mickey prior to that Saturday (who hasn’t anyway?) but I haven’t watched any of his shows yet. So while I was pouring milk to my bowl of Trix, I settled in the living room and glued my eyes in the telly. Since then, my Saturday mornings starts at eight instead of nine.

I love Mickey Mouse. I can’t really pinpoint the reason why but from the time I watched him in the tube, I became a fan. He tries so hard to impress Minnie and he is such a good owner to Pluto. He is not childish or cunning. Mickey is so ordinary, he seems like a real human being.

Even now that I am already nearing my twenty second birthday, I still collect Mickey Mouse items. I have posters, DVDs of his shows, and comic strips. I have a bunch of towels, bed sheets with matching pillowcases, alarm clock, wall clock, wrist watch, necklace, bracelet, desk lamp, you name it. I don’t know when I’ll stop looking for Mickey Mouse on every item imaginable, probably never.