I’d love to have a cat. I’m actually dying to have a cat and the only reason I don’t have one is because my lame ass roommate claims to be “allergic” to them. On top of that he, my brother, keeps claiming that he hates cats for no reason. It infuriates me every time he says it. I love cats.

They’re honestly the best for cuddling. At least the best I know. They always prop themselves right on your chest as a way to keep you warm and once they’re comfortable enough and they start to fall asleep, they’ll let their claws out to help hold them in place on top of you. If you’re not used to cats it can definitely be an excruciating pain. It’s the only reason why I really don’t cuddle with cats. It’s the only time I find myself hating cats. The only time I ever cuddled with a cat was under three layers of blankets in the middle of winter when I lived back home.

I mean other than that they are awesome. They’re the cheapest and most pleasurable pest control someone can have in a house. Everyone has seen Tom and Jerry so we all know how cats treat a mouse, all that is amplified to the max when a cat finds some sort of bug or insect or something. I had this cat one time protect me or I should say it was playing with a cockroach for about fifteen minutes until the cat “accidentally” killed it. It was like Lenny from Of mIce and Men and loved it too much that it unfortunately caused it to perish. It was not only the first time I have ever seen a dead cockroach, but it was also the first time I was ever saved from a pussy. As emasculated as I felt, it created this newfound love for cats. Plus I was incredibly grateful that I could sleep at night without worrying about a roach creeping into my bed with me.

When they’re not cuddling with you or protecting you from any of those nocturnal insects that try to climb into your mouth at night, they’re also on the prowl for ghosts. Personally, I’m petrified of ghosts. I always have been and I always will be. I know they’re real, I don’t just believe in them, they’re real I know it. The same cat I had one time, would always wake me up every morning at three thirty periodically, She would just be perched on the end of the bed meowing, looking up into the corner of the bedroom as if there was someone or something there in the corner looking back on us. The first couple nights I didn’t think anything of it I thought this cat was just crazy, but after two months of it happening everyday, that’s when I realized it was actually our place. Where we were living was haunted and immediately I closed out on the lease that next day and moved as far away from that apartment as I could. Once again I was saved by a pussy.

Ultimately the reason why I love cats so much is because they aren’t dogs. Don’t get it twisted I love dogs but cats you have to earn their respect. Cats won’t love us unconditionally just because we feed them and walk them everyday. No, with a cat we actually have to prove ourselves, show them some real love and affection not that bullshit half ass petting of the head that keeps dogs coming back to us. We have to show cats we care and truly work to win over their hearts for them to actually love us back. You know what they say, “Cats are just like girls, the only way you get to sleep peacefully at night is when they know how much you love them.”

I guess that’s why I want a cat. I’ve been living life by my lonesome long enough and could use that challenge of winning over someone’s heart. Prove to not just myself but everyone who may not think so that I actually have a heart. Also I want one because I saw a cockroach the other day and I haven’t been able to sleep since. I need someone to take care of that.