Cats and Men

My Cat recently died. He is yet another fatality to the highway I live on. I am the first to admit I am not the most sentimental about my animals. In other words, I will not leave them money when I die, I will put them to sleep before I spend the price of a car in vet bills and I do not get easily attached. I'm sure it comes from my semi-farm girl upbringing. There was always the possibility of raising a piglet one day and then being asked how they taste six months later at the breakfast table ( yes that really did happen her name was Becky). I have been known to say "cats are are the bic lighters of pets". But I have now been struck with an epiphany. Cats aren't like bic lighters they are like men. One out of every ten stays out of the places they are supposed to, goes pee in the appropriate places and doesn't get on your damn nerves. In other words, I loved my kitty and miss him terribly. He would be laying on top of my chair behind me as I type this if he were here. My son wants to get me another but it's a crap shoot. I could end up with the clingy up your ass cat that doesn't give you space and ends up on the counters in the middle of the night. I figure I have to wait a while before I will have the heart to have another cat. I don't want the next one to be a rebound cat! Like men, my kitty left me waiting for him to show up at the back door in the middle of the night, cans of food that only he likes and a big box of shit.