I am an animal lover through and through. Two dogs, four geckos, three tarantulas and of course my cat, Betty. She and I have had our differences, but I love her still. In just over two years, she’s escaped from our old condo three times, two of which required time-consuming and stressful searches. I’m not convinced she did it deliberately though, since she waited patiently below our balcony for three days for me to find her.
There is just something about having a cat though. No, cleaning a litter box is not enjoyable. No, she doesn’t fetch and she isn’t particularly social with anyone other than me. But she loves me, I can tell. She comes when I call her, tucks me in at night (or stares at me while I sleep, which is slightly creepy but I’m sure she means well by it) and helps me do my homework. She is regal at times – or likes to act like it. She’s a bit clumsy but she’s my kitty and I am happy to have her.
She can tell the time, I’m sure of it. She knows exactly when it’s bedtime and when it’s breakfast time – she is always there to remind me. She is definitely a girly girl, which is interesting, since that isn’t really my style. But she knows who she is and what she wants. She picked me at the SPCA.
I’ve had some past issues with my lovely kitty – regarding her concept of what equals a littler box and what doesn’t. I am thinking that she’s liking the new place and is starting to come around since she has become way more social with the dogs, us and freely explores the new house…without incident (fingers crossed). So this post is for Bettysocks (my silly nickname for her) and a “shout out” to her for being a good kitty in the new home. For keeping me company for long hours at the computer screen, my reading chair and for just general snuggling. Meow!