She’s WAY too into herself.
She starts bitching at me the moment I get in the door.
Remarkably enough this is about a CAT – not a bad girlfriend.
She makes messes on purpose and gloats over them.
She has NO understanding of personal space.
Everything is hers, nothing is just mine.
She’s the first thing I see in the morning (usually accosted by a paw to the face – ‘wake up slave, I need water and there are pooh clumps in my throne box‘) and the last thing I see when I go to bed (looks something like – ‘get off my sleeping square you call a ‘pellooo’ or I will continually rub my razor sharp fangs across your forehead).
I guess it’s not all bad.
She does this really cute thing with her feet when I get the rare green light to scratch her belly.
She runs to greet me at the door. I didn’t know a cat would do such a thing.
She’s low maintenance – and when I need her to GTFO, she usually complies, after about the 10th shove.
She completes my 34 year-old single woman thing. I mean, I’ve checked off all the other prerequisites…the cat was inevitable.
I may not be ready for a troupe of Mr. Whiskers, Patches and Mittens, but MeowKitty (yes, that’s her name) and I are doing just fine together.
This is the cat behind The Reluctant Cat Lady. She’s a pretty little rescue kitty and – if I’m honest – I couldn’t imagine not having my MK around these days.
Now you’ve been adequately introduced. Below is a perfect mash up of our relationship, me and MeowKitty.