|(Note, I was also into cutting my own hair)|
|(Here my older sister seems perfectly happy with the idea of my brother stabbing her with a knife. |
Me: I'm a little nervous about it all)
Even though I could dress like a cat by the time I was 3, I don't recall ever OWNING a cat back then.
We had a goat and a dog.
The biggest hurdle to becoming a cat family was my dad. He hated, hates and will forever hate cats.
One time we actually convinced the parents to take in a stray, but a few months later she mysteriously 'disappeared', never to be seen again. I'm sure dad will confess one day.
Around that time we owned a dog and some guinea pigs.
Which brings me to this next photo that I've entitled:
I'm probably 10 years old in this photo. Note the red puffy eyes and tears on my cheeks. Yes, the guinea pig is dead. It was just a baby. We thought that 'Nike' and 'Reebok' were both girls, but it turned out that they could produce some babies.
I had gone to the hutch to check on the pups before heading off to school when I made the grim discovery. Then the emotional breakdown happened.
It was like a family member had died. I didn't feel like I could go to school. I begged mum to take a photo of the little thing so we could remember.
When mum looks at this photo she remembers trying not to laugh at me.
Such are the feelings of a future cat lady.
The closest I got to lots of cats during my teenage years was at my cousin's house. They had Doozer, Louie, Beverley, Felix and Squishy.
Here's Felix hanging out in the cupboard:
After years and years of share-housing with no pets, I moved again and now have Richard.
One of the best things about being a cat lady is that I'm never alone. Which is why the cat lady criteria exists. People who are in any kind of relationship just don't qualify.
When I'm at home studying I don't feel lonely and it's always nice to have the cat to talk to.
I teach her Spanish words. Which is nice...
... because we all know that talking to oneself is just a LITTLE bit weird.