Thursday, February 10, 2005

I tell all my secrets here. I don't usually let the cat out of the bag..heh,heh, it's coming.... but Bill the Cat is for illustration purposes only. The truth is, um, I hate to say this, but I don't like cats all that well.

There. It's out. No I did not kick it once it was out, it just sort of scatted. Cats do that.

I used to like cats when I was little; but then I also liked ants, and letting flies walk on my legs. Now you have all the poop on me.

I'm sorry, I'm being bad. This is what happens if I get in one of these moods and I am typing things online. permanently. for all the world to see.

I know I will someday regret this.

I don't hate cats, however. They have their mercenary calling in life, and while I'd rather they didn't bother the birds it's a happy day when they are batting around their little mouse victims. I do hate rodents that invade my house, so the less of them, the better.

I came to this sad state of affairs because I was too sensitive as a child. I became overly attached to my animals and then when fate overtook them in one way or another I sort of hardened. I basically like animals in their place.

However, I am one of those nutty women who brake for animals and then wonder why I risk the inhabitants of my car on that account. I just can't stand to see animals killed.

Ok, this was too much. Confession time over. Now you know why you don't see lots of kitty pics on my site- even though we must have four or more around our place. My kids loooove them, and my husband has a favorite, though he denies it to me. but the kids told.

Not that I care, but I prefer dogs. One, possibly two at a time. We have one very large dog...although if I would spring the money I would have a larger one. I am partial to wolfhounds, and wanted a deerhound. I just can't see the several hundreds that would cost. If I had time to train I would get a Kuvasz, but I don't have the time or inclination.

I'll have to tell my wacky animal stories sometime. My mom's side treated animals with neurotic indulgence, which is why I strictly keep animals in their animal place.

Like when I lived with my Aunt and I had to have her dog sit beside me during meals- I kept pushing him -unseen under the table- but he wouldn't budge. He got back at me with particularly gross "accidents" when she left him with me while she went on vacation. That was one sly dog I tell ya'. He looked like Benji, and she called him that, but underneath had the heart of an evil cat.

The stories about the other stuff and my mother's penchant for psychotic dogs is for another day.....