Let’s just start off the week of animal posts with a crazy cat lady one, why don’t we? Yes, I’m the girl with more than one cat and let me just say that I do love the look on people’s faces right after I say that I have cats, plural. The tiny crinkle of the eye, the slightly concerned look. “How many?” they ask conversationally, but I can tell that inside they’re imagining I’m one of those people with the hundreds of felines attached to my person and running rampant throughout my living space whose squalor will one day be written about in an article detailing how my house was raided.
The fact of the matter, however, is that I have only two. Two insane creatures that run my living space and love me a lot, but never more than when I’m in process of opening cans of their food. And these two creatures could not be more different — Lilly is friendly, loving, adorable. She’s the one who’s immediately in friends’ laps, whether they’re allergic or not. Toby is a bit more complex. The truth is, she’s downright ornery — perfectly willing to scratch, bite or hiss at anyone. I warn people about her when they come in and marvel at her beauty (both of my girls, and I say this without bias, have truly supermodel-esque cat features). I say not to pet her or poke a finger in her direction. They never listen — the first time. After that, they leave her well enough alone. When Toby and I are one-on-one, however, she’s downright obsessed with showing me love, to the point where she tends not to be able to stop licking my face.
I imagine at times that Lilly and Toby (a word about Toby’s name: I thought she was a boy until I got her fixed — this could have something to do with her “issues”) represent the two sides of me. One, gregarious and sweet. The other, dark, moody and, at times, the most loving creature ever born. Some days I’m more Lilly than Toby, other days I’m a 24-hour Toby. They say that pets take after their owners. And I guess that as a Gemini with my share of mood swings, I needed two to fully represent me.
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