So, I got my first kitten this summer because my girlfriend’s cat Stanley was lonely, and since moving into a new place we finally had the room. Mila Miami-Sandals Sharma-Gray has been a handful since, but really opened my eyes to what I missed out on by not having pets as a child. Sure, she occasionally has digestive issues that means she starts frothing from her butt (something about anal glands) and pooping all over our white carpet. And of course, because she makes the saddest mew sounds when we lock her in the bathroom we put down a dozen towels in the guest room and sleep with her so she doesn’t feel abandoned and resent us as a teenager. Sure, I can’t safely leave out cardboard, paper, wires, food, dairy, or at this rate even furniture without it being thoroughly investigated and attacked. But it’s all worth it, because she inspires so many goofy sounds and cuteness-induced aggression that I reconsider if I was ever fully emotionally developed before I got her. What I’m getting at here is if you live in the Westridge area, I’m collecting signatures to change strata bylaws to increase the allowed number of small pets per household from two to 20 — and that I now completely understand why people buy sweaters with their cat’s faces on them.
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