I have a deep-seeded desire to become a crazy cat lady. I like cats. In fact, I have even been known to love a few cats very much. But it’s not even so much my desire for a meowing ball of fur to cuddle that makes me want to be a crazy cat lady, as my curiosity of what I could get away with.
For example, what if I somehow manage to become a world famous author, but I had to bring my comfort cats with me to book signings?
I could keep my cats of leashes next to my signing table. Fans who could tell me the cats’ names could take pictures with the cats. If the store manager pissed me off, I could “accidentally” let the cats loose and watch the mayhem unfold. In this scenario, my cats have been trained to knock over new-smelling books.
Or what if I went to see a scary movie, and right in the most shocking moment, let the cats loose? The velociraptor is coming at you, and a kitten jumps onto your lap. Do you snuggle the cat for comfort or pee yourself in fright? These are the things I need to know.
Or, and hear me out, I know people freak out about snakes on a plane, but what about cats on a plane? And not in carriers. Free-ranging cats leaping up onto the sleeping strangers, insisting on being cuddled. It could be a great relaxation technique for people afraid of flying! Or make some people sneeze all the way to Paris. But hey, plane air is already gross. Is cat dander really going to make it worse?
And these, my friends, are the thoughts that plague me late at night.
You may think of me as a cat lover with a sense of humor and the desperate need to cuddle something furry. Or perhaps I am an evil genius. Either way, a girl can dream.