The people who live in my second favorite house (out of the 25+ that I've seen while looking for a new place to live) have called me back and told me that they'd like for me to bring over my cat tomorrow evening so they can meet him and talk to me again before making a decision.
It's difficult to not get excited, but this is about the point where I get let down.
I've lost a half dozen places that I've been very enthusiastic about because I have a cat. You can qualify to these people that he's not just a cat, but the best cat. These aren't animal people. They don't get it.
How do people with four dogs find places to live?!
A few times I caught myself thinking, "I wish I didn't have a cat." And then, almost immediately, Toby would do something precious, like hop into my lap and purr into my face and force his head under my hand to be petted. When I think about coming home to a house withouth Toby, I think how miserable it would be to come home.
How do people live without pets? What sort of joyless, empty apartments do these people have?
My cat is the light of my life. I know that's sort of a sad, lonely statement, but, no joke, my cat, he's my dude. He adores me, I adore him. He's got so much personality, he's so sweet. I talk to pet owners every day at work about problems with behavior, inappropriate urination because they moved the location of the litter box or got a new couch. This sort of shit would never even occur to Toby. Some people have to clean their cats' boxes every time they use it, or the cat will start peeing outside of the box. I could leave Toby's box alone for a month, allowing the other cats in the house to use it as well, it could be a solid clump of soiled litter, and he would still go in it. It would never occur to him to eliminate outside of the box. He's never scratched or bitten me. When we play, I'll grab his face and he'll wrap his front paws around my arm and pretend to bite my hand, but it's really just a passive move the involves putting his mouth on me. He's never broken the skin.
In the four years he's lived with me, the most aggressive thing he's ever done has been to hiss before he runs away and hides from a strange animal.
He's a hider.
That's my boy.
He hides from scary things.
I hope that we get this house, it's my second favorite house. It's lovely and big and the bedroom is massive and it's in the exact perfect location. The people who live there are sweet and normal. But the big thing is that Toby will be the only animal. No more being beaten up by my house mates' shitty cats. No more little dogs barking and scary him. No more cats using his litter box. No more cats stealing his diet food. He deserves to be the only fuzzy pal in the house. He likes windows and watching birds. That will be his new hobby in the new house. No more dodging claws and scarfing his food to just go run and hide again. Life will be good.
Is it pathetic that I want this new house in huge part because it's the best house for my cat?
So, losing the most beautiful house I've ever seen because I have the coolest kitty to ever live? Yeah, I'm okay with that.
I fucking love this cat.
It's difficult to not get excited, but this is about the point where I get let down.
I've lost a half dozen places that I've been very enthusiastic about because I have a cat. You can qualify to these people that he's not just a cat, but the best cat. These aren't animal people. They don't get it.
How do people with four dogs find places to live?!
A few times I caught myself thinking, "I wish I didn't have a cat." And then, almost immediately, Toby would do something precious, like hop into my lap and purr into my face and force his head under my hand to be petted. When I think about coming home to a house withouth Toby, I think how miserable it would be to come home.
How do people live without pets? What sort of joyless, empty apartments do these people have?
My cat is the light of my life. I know that's sort of a sad, lonely statement, but, no joke, my cat, he's my dude. He adores me, I adore him. He's got so much personality, he's so sweet. I talk to pet owners every day at work about problems with behavior, inappropriate urination because they moved the location of the litter box or got a new couch. This sort of shit would never even occur to Toby. Some people have to clean their cats' boxes every time they use it, or the cat will start peeing outside of the box. I could leave Toby's box alone for a month, allowing the other cats in the house to use it as well, it could be a solid clump of soiled litter, and he would still go in it. It would never occur to him to eliminate outside of the box. He's never scratched or bitten me. When we play, I'll grab his face and he'll wrap his front paws around my arm and pretend to bite my hand, but it's really just a passive move the involves putting his mouth on me. He's never broken the skin.
In the four years he's lived with me, the most aggressive thing he's ever done has been to hiss before he runs away and hides from a strange animal.
He's a hider.
That's my boy.
He hides from scary things.
I hope that we get this house, it's my second favorite house. It's lovely and big and the bedroom is massive and it's in the exact perfect location. The people who live there are sweet and normal. But the big thing is that Toby will be the only animal. No more being beaten up by my house mates' shitty cats. No more little dogs barking and scary him. No more cats using his litter box. No more cats stealing his diet food. He deserves to be the only fuzzy pal in the house. He likes windows and watching birds. That will be his new hobby in the new house. No more dodging claws and scarfing his food to just go run and hide again. Life will be good.
Is it pathetic that I want this new house in huge part because it's the best house for my cat?
So, losing the most beautiful house I've ever seen because I have the coolest kitty to ever live? Yeah, I'm okay with that.
I fucking love this cat.