Sometimes, I wonder “why the hell do I have cats?” Jenny is allergic to cats. They scratch the hell out of us, and the make a lot of weird sounds. Oh, and I have to buy litter, clean their poop up, and feed them. They eat my houseplants, and I have to gather large clumps of fur off of the floor periodically. Why do I do this?
It’s fairly simple. They are adorable. Our kids fell in love with one that needed a home, and we got him a brother. Fair enough. That’s why we got them, though. Why the hell do we keep them? The short answer is that the kids love them. Pretty obvious, methinks, but it goes deeper than that.
Our cats are great service-type animals. They help the kids focus on school. They help us relax when we are stressed. They can be tortured using lasers and flashlights, and they never come to any harm. They play, nap, and generally look adorable. They are magic, without horns, or wands, or talking, or any other inconvenient trait fantasy creatures might come with.
Of course, they have been the reason behind getting Kevlar-covered headphone cords. They freak out when my chair rolls (which is about 700 times a day). Oh, and they try to steal bacon. Oh well, magic doesn’t make perfect.