Little Monster

It's no secret how much I adore my cat. She's hilarious. And sassy. Chloe thinks she's a dog, and I think she's my child. So you can see how we might be bordering on insanity in our house. I've compiled a list as proof, so that when they try to put me in a straight jacket, y'all can vouch that she is one gifted feline, and I am, simply, her supportive, loving mother.


- She hates fish, but comes running when she smells onions. Or beer. Little lush.
- She sits with her legs crossed. Just like a lady should.

- She watches tv. Last week, I was watching E! and Kendra's laugh woke her up. Chloe left the room in a huff. This is probably because she prefers watching the Kardashians over Kendra.


- When we say, "Talk to me," she does just that.


- Heaven forbid we put away her favorite blanket. She'll walk in circles, flabbergasted that it's gone, until in magically reappears. She, then, plops down and breathes a sigh of relief. Rough life, huh?


- We frequently find her asleep in our bed. Head on pillow, body under covers.
- She must be in the same room as us at all times.

- She tries to get us pumped up the same way football coaches do. By running, jumping and slapping our behinds before scampering away. Don't coaches do that?

- Saying the word, "treat" in our house will ensure that the monster will be sitting by the pantry, tail going crazy, within 2.7 seconds. Heart of a dog, what did I tell you?


- If either one of us has our laptop on our lap, she swats at it until we move it. She then takes her rightful place on said lap. Lord help us when we have a baby!


- She loves to hang out in my closet, in my shoe boxes. I love a girl with style. See Matt? Even Chloe likes peep toe pumps! I had to buy them. For her. Two pairs. For her four feet.
Like I said, crazy.