One minute (or evening) I'm snapping my husband's head off saying things like, "I HATE THIS CAT AND I RESENT THAT I (of all people) HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HER! I NEVER WANTED A CAT! I HAVE ENOUGH PEOPLE AROUND HERE TO TAKE CARE OF!"
The next (afternoon) I'm chasing the big bully black and white cat off my porch screaming, "LEAVE MY CAT ALONE, YOU BIG BULLY, BEFORE I FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE AND HAVE YOU TAKEN OUT!"
Apparently I do like her enough that I don't want her picked upon and as long as she isn't knocking on the back door, just to make sure I am available to open it for her just in case she should want in (but probably doesn't).
Oh, been there too. We had a cat for 5 years - my boyfriend wanted it and I didn't know what it all was going to be about... But all-in-all, I loved that time. :) Petra
It sounds like the immortal "I-can-pick-on-my-brother-but-you-can't" syndrome. Been there, lived through it.
I don't understand someone who doesn't love cats. I'm beginning to rethink the high regard I once had for you.
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