OK, so I am not what you would call a pet enthusiast. It’s not that I don’t like pets, its that I don’t like everything that comes with them—like the shedding, and the noise, and the fact that you have to comply with their schedule (any of you realizing why we don’t have kids yet?) We also don’t do the pet thing because Mike is allergic to them, so for now we are pet free, except…
So Mike has been gone this week, and I got a pretty bad cold to enjoy while he’s gone. The other night I was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. In the middle of the night I awoke to a horrible sound. I really thought there was a baby crying on my front doorstep. Do you know what it was? A cat. A crying cat who likes to sit on my garden wall, next to my window and cry for HOURS! It did it again last night. That dumb cat is luck I was sedated by nightquil, or he might have had to dodge some flying shoes coming his way.
I am in no way an animal hater…I just don’t like being woken up by a crying cat. Can’t it go find another garden wall to sit on?
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