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Yeah, I am one of those people.

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I would like to decorate this post with little comics of my and Mouse but I am in my bed and haven't slept in over 30 hours due to insomnia so instead I will litter it with photos of me and my cat. I know it isn't a popular opinion and I have even seen people get heated, angry even, at hearing someone profess their love for their pet as being equal to their love for their friends but for me, I really do feel this way.

This became especially clear after I lost my human best friend. It's been almost two years since that tragedy and now I lovingly watch my cat sleep and remember that she is about 9 years old and I get panicky imagining her death. This cat has been by my side for 9 years. She has been through almost every break-up and comforted me I swear! This cat doesn't like to be held but when I was going through my worst break up ever she laid down next to me and let me hold her for hours. She knows when I am sad and she is clearly concerned.

She also adds such joy to my life. Being sick and confined to my room would be much more hellish without this little warm, vibrating, purring ball of fur. She is right now kneading a blankie next to me with her one back paw up on my leg. She likes one foot touching me while she kneads. She has a little "beauty mark" on one of her back paws and I love it. I love how she's always had one squinty eye. I love how she never shuts up. I like waking up to her eating my hair. I photograph her constantly. I have probably hundreds of photos of her now and I fully intend to have a photo album for her as well as framed pictures on my wall.

Nobody could convince me that my love for this cat is anything but unconditional and it often feels I get the same in return. Though anyone with a cat knows it is really one-conditional love. If I quit feeding Mouse she would probably eat me alive but my love for her is completely unconditional. She has always been a problem cat since day 1. She used to knock over trash cans, break every glass object, tear down my curtains, poop on my pillow. She was a demon cat but I knew once I adopted her that she was my cat until she died and eventually I realized I loved her as much as any of my other best friends. I will happily take the stigma of crazy cat lady.

Perhaps my love for my cat is strengthened by the fact that I am now disabled and isolated and she's pretty much a service animal. The worst service animal ever, sure but she enriches my life and keeps me sane and has kept me alive during times I was convinced I have no other reason to live than to take care of my cat. She has saved my life.

So, yeah I am one of those people that calls their pet family and I mean it.