So, there is a thought I think just about every Monday, several times over the course of the day. That thought is: Geez, I wish my husband wasn't allergic to bunnies! Okay, this may seem like a random thing to think every week on the same day, sure. Until you factor in that Monday at Daily Squee has been rechristened "Bunday" and they kick off each week by inundating their viewers with adorable pictures (and sometimes even videos) of bunnies all day long.
Pictures like this:
And even this:
I mean, I had a bunny once, when I was a little kid. It didn't end well. It's a sad story, and I really don't feel like recounting it, so I won't. But for a few days? Man, just the cutest sweetest little thing.
Anyhoo, whenever I mention this stray regret about allergies to my husband, the conversation goes something like this:
Me: "Man, it's Monday. I wish you weren't allergic to bunnies."
Husband: "Sigh. Look, you can get a bunny, just know that I won't be able to touch it. Ever."
Me: "I know, I know, I don't really want a bunny. Still...so cute...."
But recently, there has been another line of dialogue added to that conversation. Because recently? I've been thinking about adding more than just bunnies to our household. So, the last time we had this conversation, it ended like this:
Me: "Wait, wait, wait. So you're saying we can get a bunny, a pet you can't even touch, but we can't get another cat?"
To which my poor husband can only respond by fleeing from the room to protect himself from my nonsense.
But the point is, I have been thinking we need another cat. I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. My husband, rightfully so, has been treating me like I'm crazy for considering this. We already have two cats. They can't stand each other. I've kind of always said that having more than two would be silly. I mean, once there's more than two, they can make alliances, and there's a good chance at least one of them is going to be miserable.
But...then I keep thinking, if we get a kitten (and a girl, this time), she might a) distract my daughter from chasing the older cats who want to just be left alone, and b) be able to fit in a little better because she won't be quite set in her ways just yet, and c) get along with the oldest cat, who actually always got along with the other female cats we had before we got the younger boy.
It doesn't help that you can shop for cats on the humane society's web page. No, I'm not joking. They post pictures and details of all of the cats (and dogs, and other animals) available for adoption in your area. I keep going back to that page to check out the available cats, and there are a few who seem like they might be a good fit with our crazy household.
Hubby brings up the probable scenario that Baby Girl is going to be asking for her own pet sooner or later anyway. I am hoping to circumvent that (because I know she is going to ask for a dog and I still don't think I can deal with owning a dog) by getting the kitten and making it perfectly clear that it is her cat. Possibly, the kitten would even cooperate with this ruse. What? It might. You never know.
For those who would suggest I might be venturing into crazy cat lady territory here, look, if the pets don't outnumber the people, you're still well within the safety zone from that particular label. Seriously. This would make us even. Whoo! Since the time my memory kicked in, I have always lived in a house with pets. I'll be honest, people who don't have/have never had pets really weird me out a little bit. To me, that's just a normal part of life, sharing it with our animal friends. The single worst thing about living in the dorms in college was that I couldn't have a cat (even if it did mean, for the first and only time in my life, that everything I owned wasn't constantly covered in cat hair).
I have at points in my life lived in a household where people were vastly outnumbered by the pets (though they weren't all cats, there were lizards and guinea pigs and a hedgehog and greyhound in there too). It was fine. We managed to muddle through. Cats are, after all, actually very social animals. As long as everyone understands the pecking order (humans included), it all tends to work out.
Now, we are going out of town for Christmas this year, so my husband is consoling himself with the fact that I won't insist on going through with this insanity until after we get back. Still, once we do return to Texas? Well, then the gloves are coming off. I wonder if I can train Baby Girl to say "Can we get another kitty?" by Christmas?