I have a cat. Most of the time I care more about and for my cat than other people and myself.
Momma Kitty (ya I know it is a lame-ass name) was a stray found 12 years ago in the backyard of the place I was living. She and four kittens came into my life unexpectedly and literally (put that word in just to piss you off) through the back door.
She is my roommate, traveling companion and my BFF (non-human variety). We have crossed the country more times than I can count over the past eleven years (more than 150,000 miles driven). She does great in the truck, in the camper and in hotel rooms: never pissed on anything nor damaged any furniture. Momma Kitty has even been a guest in households of folks that aren’t ‘cat people’. Together we have cruised my sailboat, and other boats, for multiple days and even weeks.
Even so, as with all relationships, there are the times she throws up into my shoes …