I consider myself to be a pretty easy person to read. You can easily tell how my day is going by the look on my face and the tone of my voice. It's nearly impossible for me to lie and therefore I don't have any secrets.
Except for one.
On a daily basis, I think to myself, "How much longer are these cats going to live for?"
It's terrible, I know. Do I feel guilty about this? Sometimes...like when my cats are calmly sleeping next to me (NEXT to me, not ON me) on the couch, or when Parker is literally putting one of their rear, clawed paws in his mouth to bite and the cat still doesn't shred his face open.
Let me tell you when I don't feel guilty wondering about the life expectancy of my boys: when I am cleaning up their vomit on an almost-daily basis, when I am constantly tripping over them, when they feel the need to love-bite me, when my husband's allergies flare up, when Parker is digging in their litter box.....the list could go on and on.
The one that makes me contemplate "accidentally" leaving the back door open or adopting an un-neutered 100 pound pit bull is when they won't come out of Parker's room when I am trying to put him to bed (!!!!!). In moments I am not proud of, I have reached under the guest bed (where they hide) and have pulled them by the tail out from under there.
The thing is, that these cats are, literally, the sweetest two cats in the world. Not by coincidence, they are also the dumbest cats ever. Only with domesticated animals is it actually an evolutionary advantage to be stupid. Because with their stupidity came sweetness.
Is it a good idea to cat-walk out the window onto the 2 inch railing of our 3rd story apartment?
Should I eat an entire plastic bag and then vomit it up?
Should I paw my clean water and make it dirty within seconds of having the bowl filled up?
That's reasonable. And makes perfect sense...because then I won't drink it and will demand clean water, which I will promptly soil again.
But with all their flaws, we still manage to have moments where I remember that somewhere, deep deep down inside, I love these two pains in my ass.
Oh yeah...and then there's the problem that Parker is obsessed with them.
But seriously, how long do cats live for?