We have two cats. Yes.
These cats are incredibly chill. They do not tear shit up too badly and they put up with Mr. No rather well.
One cat belonged to Mr. Smith before we started dating. The other one we got as a couple to keep the first one company.
We enjoyed watching them play together. Scampering around and all that. Snuggling with us. Trying to drink the milk out of your cereal bowl when you weren't looking.
Cute. Adorable. Loving. Purring. Aw.
We had Mr. No (who not known as Mr No at the time).
And I swear to you in the spirit of love and kindness and tranquility and whatever else....I came home with that baby and I had NO room left in my heart for those cats.
Yes-one of them DID scarf down a bunch of cat food and then puke it up in front of me and then EAT IT BACK DOWN. Though, it was hardly digested. And we HAD been gone for 3 days. Having a baby and shit.
I remember sitting there thinking something evil. Don't recall what it was exactly.
And now all I see is the litter everywhere and the cat hair everywhere and they want ATTENTION constantly. Food constantly. Constant litter box to scoop.
What the fuck is my fucking problem???
Guh. I'm gonna go work out now. Do some yoga meltdown and whatnot.