I currently don’t have a roommate. I do have two cats though. Actually, I think my last roommate left because of my cats. Good riddance, too. She complained about everything. I couldn’t make a cup of coffee in the morning without her complaining that I was making too much noise. Hello, it’s my house! I’ll make as much noise as I please, and I wasn’t making that much noise anyway. That’s another story for another day.
My only roommates now are my cats. I love ’em, too. There’s no better feeling than to come home after a long hard day, plop down on the couch, and have your cats come over and start rubbing up against your legs, laying next to your head, purring. The sound is so soothing. I could fall asleep to that sound any day. So I’m happy with my cat roommates. I suppose I’ve become the cat lady that my sister and I used to make fun of as little girls. Sigh!
Well, to guarantee that the cat lady name sticks, one of my cats had kittens. So now instead of having two cats, I have seven. I’m on my way to becoming an official cat lady. I think I know how it happens. You start with one or two, then one of them has kittens. The kittens are just so CUTE, that you can’t part with them just yet. By the time you’ve decided to let someone else have them, you’ve grown attached, or they’ve grown just far enough out of the cute kitten stage that they’re just CATS. You can hardly pay people to take a full grown cat.
I don’t think I want to be known as the cat lady just yet, so I’m trying to get my friends to take these adorable little kittens off my hands before they get too un-kitten-ish.
The moral of the story: have mercy on your local cat lady. She didn’t start out that way. In fact, ask her if you can have one of her kittens. You’ll be doing her a favor.