On Cats

In my lifetime I've had 3 cats. Kind of. I got Dalila when I was 6, and we had to put her down earlier this year because of a stroke. She was nearly 14. Even though her pedigree stated I was her owner, she chose my mom. I was only ever her play friend, maybe some version of a litter mate. She got along much better with me in her final years, but she was never really my cat.

Then, Jasmine, though she stayed with us only a brief few weeks, became an important part of the family. She adopted Kyle and followed him devotedly, tripping him in the kitchen, eating his garden as he tried to weed.

Sunshine is the first cat to pick me. We have a grand time together, she snuggles against my legs while I read in bed in the evenings, she'll poke at my back through my desk chair in the mornings in order to convince some quality petting time out of me. She still flinches if I move a little too quickly or do something unexpected, but if I call her or motion to pet her, she'll come running.

Having a cat is nice.