Okay, so I mean, I really don’t want to be one of those people on the internet, talking about how much they love their cat, but I think it’s just struck me, that the love of a cat is a really accurate metaphor for every worthwhile thing you’ll ever do. Because most of the time the cat is like, I hate you human, I’m going to scratch your ankles when you innocently and semi consciously stumble past me on your way to the kettle in the mornings, I’ll deny you the affection you so desperately crave on a regular basis - when you’re trying to get me in from the garden I’ll wait until you walk right up to me and then I’ll run away and hide up a fucking tree, because I am a cat and I owe you nothing. But sometimes the cat will sit in your lap and purr and rub it’s furry face against your less furry face, and you will understand with complete clarity, that owning a cat is a whole lot better than not owning a cat. I forgot what I was trying to say with this.
I might be in an abusive relationship with my cat.