My cat loves me. A lot. How do I know? He brings me pressies. Taz has no front claws so the fact that he still takes care to disembowel my presents is an added bonus. That's quality work. I spent 10 minutes girding my loins before I took this picture. Then I had to get rid of the body. Brrr. But it's hard to be mad at my mouse murderer when deep down (past the vomit coming up) I know he's just trying to be thoughtful. Although the thought that a critter that sleeps on my pillow, talks to me, comes when I call him and nuzzles me on the couch, purring so loud I can barely hear the tv, can do this to another living thing chills me to the bone.
I'm a married mother of 3. I'm Canadian. I'm a Whovian, a sci-fi nerd, a ukulele player, knitter, cartoon/animé lover and a tv/pop culture-holic, I keep a blog that inflates my already swollen ego. I'm not all that interesting but I have high self-esteem which makes up for it.
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Let's talk about the stuff I love.