My Pets are Crazy and I am Their Owner

Someone close to me once (well, many times) made the joke, “pets and their owners” (meaning, I was crazy, so my pets are too. This is not really far from the truth).

My cat thinks she is a dog. She snuggles, she HAS to sleep in my armpit (don’t ask) and she is constantly seeking attention.

Someone apparently forgot to tell her she is a cat. I also got her when she was five years old, so she figured out pretty quickly I was a soft touch. Little furry terrorist.

The dog, however, thinks she’s a cat (well, I guess, all things being equal, this works itself out). She doesn’t climb on the furniture – I don’t think it has occurred to her that a) she could and b) I wouldn’t complain. She comes over for “pets” on her terms, which usually means five minutes, you can scratch my ears, and I’m over you. I’ll be on the floor if you need me.

I live with these little furry conundrums and I wouldn’t trade it for the world – there’s never a dull moment in my household.

Also, the one thing they agree on, is that they are complete and total beggars:

Just look at them. This is the only time they work together. If they actually start holding meetings I am doomed.

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