Cats.

I grew up my entire life with a dog. I think when I was... maybe 5 or so I wanted a cat, as all little girls did. Then my dad decided Dustin needed a dog, and we got one of my most feared animals: a dog. I used to stand on the kitchen table screaming as a little harmless puppy walked through the kitchen, wagging his tail and barking. In a few weeks, however, I was converted, and after a bite from a cat on my arm, I have been convinced for the past 15 years that I am a "Dog person."

This is also because of my inability to interact with cats, due to an overwhelming experience with dogs. For example, Jess had a dog and a cat. I walked up to the cat, stuck my face in his, and said "I LOVE YOU!" The cat ran away and hid under the bed. A similar show of affection towards the dog revealed that the dog not only felt the same way, but always had, and wanted nothing more than to be showered with my affection.

These past few weeks, I have been making friends with Mike's cat, Max. Little by little I have begun to love and understand Max more and more. He's one of the main things I want to talk about to my friends (Max licked the blinds today, Max attacked a hair tie today, Max let me pick him up!) Today, Max is spending the weekend with me while Mike journeys out of town.

I walked into my apartment, and this tiny, soft creature began rubbing around my legs. I sat down, and he circled me, purring and rubbing against me, letting me scratch his head and directing me where to scratch. He licked my hand, then brought me a hair tie, which I threw, and he proceeded to play fetch with me.

I have fallen completely in love with a tiny, spastic, soft, slightly crazy ball of fur and meows. And I couldn't be happier.