Writer's Block & Cats

I’ve been terrible about posting here lately. Sometimes the longer I stay away the harder it is to start posting again. At times like these I find the best way to reawaken the sleeping writer is to do a very silly post. Easy to write, easy to read, and then the whole process stops feeling foreign and I can once again dazzle you with more in-depth posts! So…

When I was little, I really wanted a kitten, unfortunately my mother did not. I begged for one, I tried bargaining for one, I hatched plans to catch strays and hide them under my bed. My ideal cat would have been a white Persian, the fluffier the better, which would follow me around during the day and sleep in my bed at night. Among my cat stuffed animals, I also had two old books filled with cat pictures which I poured over for years. These are all from Walter Chandoha’s Book of Kittens and Cats:

As I got older I didn’t obsess over my desire for a cat anymore. I still liked them, I still would like have liked to own one, but I didn’t think about it very often. Once I got into high school I stopped thinking about owning a cat altogether. Until about a year ago when my husband called me from work, and told me to come down and see him. When I got there he had an adorable black and white kitty with a red bow tied around his neck. There had been an adoption event at the shelter in Madison and he brought the kitten back to his work and let him play in the warehouse until I got there. I brought him home and he is just as wonderful as I always figured a cat would be.

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