Cats

I'm not much of a cat person. In fact, I'm badly allergic to both the hair and the dander, not to mention whatever crap is in their saliva. Still, I can respect an animal that doesn't feel (or won't admit) that it depends upon me for sustenance.

When I was fortunate enough to convince my girlfriend that we were meant for each other I inherited 2 long haired Turkish Van cats. Apparently she had gotten them just a week or so before we met. Story of my life.

Ordinarily I can't stand it when people post pictures of their pets online. I mean, who the hell really cares? Also, most of the time the pictures are pretty bad. Usually the picture will just have a title, "Betsy being Cute!!!" and it will encompass the entire living room. Your eye roams the image, all the while wondering what kind of animal 'Betsy' is.

Not so with my pictures. I mean, you may still be saying to yourself, 'Who cares?' but at least you will be able to find the pet in the picture and know what kind of animal it is. It's a cat, king of the 'domesticated' beasts.

First up is Isabella. She's the female and the one who likes to use her claws. Naturally.
Next is Madison. He's the cool cat. Sleeps most of the day. Naturally.

And then there's the cat that I would have loved to have gotten, if only to keep the neighbor's kids away from our garage doors.

So there you have it. Our cats. Or rather, our Monarchs.