So...cats

Many, in fact, almost all of the people I have met recently have given me a lot of "hate" for loving my cats so much.

Caleb says it's because he's from Kansas, where cats are mainly feral creatures that you find dead on a highway or snooping around in your garbage.

Everyone else just says, "I'm not a cat person."

And then, like a thumb that lost in a sumo wrestling battle with the car door, there's me, the lover of felines.

And I'm the crazy one!

Ok. OK!! I'll give in that I'm a bit odd, but there's a reason why cats tug on my heart so. Sit down and let me tell ya, ya hear?

When I was little, I got my first pet, a cat.

I loved him. Granted he was evil, but I loved every little evil flee on his back. Plus I was too young to notice.

When I was in 6th grade, we moved. We took Tyler (said cat) with us, but for some reason he was not happy with the new home. He hid behind the washer for hours and hours on end.

I was worried, but there was nothing I could do about it. Mom just told me, "He'll be fine."

Then one day, I came home from school for my mom to tell me, "I'm sorry, but Tyler is missing. He ran out the door and I haven't seen him since."

Devastation. Utter devastation. My heart completely broke. Tyler, my little ball of evil ran away. And I never saw him again.

This is all pre-breakdown, back when I didn't talk much to people. My main love language is physical touch, and Tyler, he was perfect at that. He hated everyone but me. That made me feel special.

Fast-forward to age 16. I've been catless from the day Tyler left, with empty promises from my mom that we would get a new cat for me.

On a Sunday, I snapped and I lost control of reality and long-story short thought the world wasn't real and I wanted to die.

Longer story even shorter, I felt this urgent need to touch everything. That was the only way I knew it was really real. And a lot of the time I just thought about my cat, and how I wish I could hold him.

A woman at my church, out of the blue, came up to my mom and told her "Get your daughter a cat." She was confused why God told her to tell my mom that, but she did.

My mom came home to me crying about how I wish I had a cat to hold in my arms. And then she knew.

TADA!! Pet shopping! We were out to buy me a kitty!

Longest story ever told even shorter, we took home two little baby brother kittens. One siamese (Isaiah) and one super fluffy and white (Claussen).

I have had these cats for about 4 years now.  They have gotten me through a lot of depression and loneliness.

Sorry this story turned into a downer, I just like talking.

Yes, I call them my babies, my angels, my loves, because they are.
They are a gift straight from God.

God knew that I wanted a cat. So what did he do? Tell an elder in my church to tell my mom to buy me a cat.

Yes, they don't come to me when I call or lick my face when I walk through the door. But they always come to me and sit on my belly when I'm in my room crying. They love to get tummy rubs as they sprawl out on the floor. They are particularly fond of hair-brushing sessions, that is when they purr the loudest.

They are a symbol of God's love for me.

That is the main reason I love my cats. Thank you.