Ack! Pooey! Furball!

I occured to me today, while I was vacuuming up enough dog hair to be able to knit three blankets and a couple of sweaters, that I'm not a dog person (though I love Hank), and if something happens to the Spouse Thingy, it's likely that I'll become a Cat Lady. You know, those freaky old women who live in the dark house at the end of the street, with the grass that never seems to need to be cut but still looks pretty bad, who have 22 cats roaming around inside and a couple of dozen outside. I'm going to be one of them.

I realized this while I was vacuuming, because the constant shedding of dog hair annoys me, and I had just had a conversation with the cat. Yes, I talk to the cat. He talks back. What's worse, is that we seem to understand each other. I never have conversations with the dog. I talk to him and he stares back with this vacant "I want food" look. I talk to the cat and he answers. I'm definitely a cat person.

I'm not much of a people person, either. I suck at casual conversation with other bipeds. But I can talk to cats.

Yep, I'm going to be that freaky old lady at the end of the street, who chases kids off the lawn with an old broom. =sigh=

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