Nineteen happiness

My cats. I'm a cat person. I don't dislike all dogs by any means (just the big and noisy ones), but I'm definitely a cat person.

I have two cats, Donovan and Siouxsie. I didn't name either of them--I inherited them from previous owners.

Donovan is an orange tabby cat with no front claws. Siouxsie is grey and fluffy, although she's become less so as she's gotten older. They're both pretty old--when I got Donovan he was still growing out of his kitten stage, and that was the year of the OJ trial. You do the math.

Siouxsie is, I think a little older than Donovan. She'd be a Goth, like her namesake, if she could be. Donovan is lot like Sylvester in the cartoons where the clownish pussycat flees from one state of panic to another--I once referred to him as a "little fuzzy embodiment of my id."

I try to take good care of them; I'm always afraid that I could do a better job. But that's one of the things I like about having them--if forces me to take responsibility for other living things, and sometimes it's easier to do that for them than it is for myself.

As my friend Jen can attest, if we speak on the phone for much more than a minute, we can always count upon one or both of my cats to come and join me--Donovan typically curls up at my side, and Siouxsie will spread out on top of me.

BTW I don't have any pictures to post, otherwise I would.