What about all the lumps in the litter box? And the long, lonely nights with no people to lay on top of? And what if there's a scary thunderstorm, or God forbid a million times, a fire? How can anyone have a good time with those thoughts running through their brain? They can't, that's how. But try telling that to my husband.
Obviously my cat owns me. And while I know it's common for pets to believe they have the upper paw, frankly I'm getting tired of the whole thing. Lurch is only seven, give or take, with a long life ahead of him (barring getting run over by a car or mutilated by a larger animal, both outcomes being possible in our rural neighborhood), and while I love him unconditionally, if he were a person I would ask him to move out and only see him on weekends. Again, not possible. So I'm stuck.
The other thing that totally pisses me off is that La La Land, which I did not see and will never see because it's some self-indulgent crappy musical about Hollywood and who cares, will probably win Best Picture at the Oscars this weekend while Lion, which I have seen twice and might even see again, it being so great and a heartbreaking true story with amazing performances, will likely get nothing.
That's it. The end.