I consider myself something of an expert on cats. As a self-proclaimed Official Cat Lover, I have been exposed to a lot of cat things in my life.
Like a lot.
Cats are one of my passions and hobbies, and I know that like my P.A. post earlier, I have probably lost some of you immediately, but maybe my fellow cat-worshippers out there will decide to keep on reading.
Look, I can’t help it that these cats take up a significant portion of my heart.
So when people claim to love cats, the voice in my head immediately says “No you don’t. You couldn’t possible love them as much as I do. In fact, I’ve had 14 cats worth of life experience!”
This isn’t a lie, but in retrospect I’m not too proud of this. Having 14 cats in my 19 years is a bad track record that is often thrown back into my face like a hot potato. However, this has sort of desensitized me to the hateful comments that non-cat lovers make. They will never know the sublime joy of a napping cat when you get home from work or school. They will never appreciate the amazing sensation known as purring. They may never feel the success when your cat greets you by showing their stomachs. I have no problem disregarding arguments against cat-lovers by tapping into my memory of one of the many individual cats that I have had to drown out their dumb points.
There came a point in my life before I fully understood social decorum and what behaving somewhat normally entailed. Upon seeing cats, pictures of cats, or mentions of cats, I should not have put my full attention on a person and yelled “Kittyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” at them, but instead I should have probably continued doing whatever else it was.
I had a lot of cat related gifts at my birthdays.
I have read many book about cats. I own many books about cats. Fiction books, anecdotes, the DK CATS book, which is the Holy Bible of Cat informative books (I learned how cat babies were made before I learned how human babies were made), beautiful photograph books of cats.
I’m not crazy, but someone would think I am.
I recently bought a tank top of three cats in sombreros. I’m not even ashamed.
A cat clock hangs on my wall, and my grandmother made me cat pillow covers.
Actually, the more I’m naming objects, the more I’m realizing I should stop.
meow meow meow
(Long story short, I love cats. I think I made it clear.)