I had a hard time figuring out a topic for this week’s post, so I decided to talk about my cats.
I have three cats. Technically none of them are mine. Two belong to my 16-year-old and one to my 19-year-old. At least that’s the way we see it as humans.
Cats see it differently. The oldest cat agrees that she belongs to my 16-year-old. The middle cat, however, considers my husband to be her human, rather than the 19-year-old. And the youngest can’t make up her mind, though she tends to gravitate to me most of the time.
Right now I’m trying to figure out how to get the youngest cat into the carrier for a trip to the vet. This might not be as easy as it seems. She’s a small cat but she fights mightily, and she really doesn’t like the carrier… But she’s going to have to deal with it, because if we don’t get her spayed soon, she’s going to drive all of us bananas.
She won’t be as difficult as the other two, though, each of which has to go to the vet within the next few days. I might need to wear armor to load the middle cat into the carrier…
I’m glad to have the cats around, because since I work from home, there are hours on end where they’re the only living beings I have to interact with. And bonus points that they’re soft and fuzzy. (The pic below is the youngest cat in March 2014. Apparently I have no other cat pics…)