No, I don’t really know what that thing on Jennifer’s desk is. But I want one.

Pet ownership, I’ve found, is a series of compromises. You agree to to feed, shelter, and provide medical care and they agree to only puke on the floor twice a day, tops. You agree to not own anything scratchable and they won’t destroy it at the first available opportunity. You agree to provide a place to sleep and they agree to sleep in it for you.

It’s all about give and take, y’see. You give stuff, and they take it. And you let them do this because they are small and fuzzy and warm and their juvenile-like proportions make your useless┬ásimian brain find them adorable, which curbs your ever intensifying desire to smash them into a small, fuzzy, warm paste on the floor.

I love my cats.