Whiskers.
Fuzzy faces with round dark eyes.
Adorable small furry animals make me smile!
My daughter will be quick to tell you: she has no brother, no sister, no dog, no cat!
She actually exclaims this to complete strangers on a semi-regular basis. Without fail, they turn their sad faces downward to my little girl with a clearly audible "awwwww...". It makes me feel more monster than Mom!
I do love pets. I grew up with a couple bunnies, Nibbles and Hops-A-Lot. In my teen years, we took in a stray cat whom we named Mr. Mistoffelees after a character in Cats, which we had seen only a day or so before he appeared, lonely and hungry, in our neighborhood. And in my final year of college, I adopted Jean Claude, my sassy gray kitty who lived in many apartments, endured a few medical mishaps, and finally floated to kitty heaven almost two years ago.
I miss Claude. My husband? Not so much. He is the final holdout in our household in regards to a new kitty. Amelia begs for one, I drop hints and try to convince him that it would be a perfect addition. He is not yet convinced. He has a knack for remembering the morning vomit discoveries, the howling during painful trips to the vet, the inconvenience of finding cat care when we want to head out on vacation. I try to forget those things.
For now, we have two cats in our neighborhood who live mostly outdoors. They are fed a couple doors down, but they seem to enjoy our backyard. Every now and then I am giddy like a child when I look out and see a fuzzy cat face looking at me. I pretend they belong to us, and we don't have to feed them or change kitty litter.
One of my borrowed pets - see? He thinks he lives here. |