Pets. We almost always had a pet or two when the kids were growing up, and they were fun members of our little family, but lately... I have a cat. He was homeless when I took him in about a year ago. He's a pain in the butt. I gave him a name (Pixel), he doesn't acknowledge it. I give him food, he won't eat it...until I happen to find the "right" food, and then he will eat it until he won't. While me and Meesh were in bed, he'd jump up on my back, claws first, and only at the worst times. Now we keep the door closed and the window open, which is not my preference. He streaks across the floor to viciously attack my lower legs and feet every time I walk through the kitchen. E-v-e-r-y time. And I don't think he's playin'; he draws blood, and he's an absolute terror when I clip his nails.
Weird thing is, on top of being picky about his food, Pixel will only eat it when I set it down - he only sits in my lap, only asks me to pet him, only "talks" to me, and he'll only get in his bed after I fluff-up his li'l blankie.
I've opened the door for him, you know, made the offer, but he won't leave. He sunbathed on our postage-stamp patio a couple times, but he ain't goin anywhere. Little twerp.
