If you live with a cat, you may not actually own much. My cats own certain things that I thought were mine. For example, my crochet. Once I thought it was mine. For five seconds flat. Then I learned it was theirs.
While crocheting, the yarn moves from the ball or skein of yarn into the end product. This is enticing to most felines in my life. The end product can also be a delight to them. They love to be surrounded by soft things, and I prefer working with the soft yarns. We have the same tastes.
Over the years I’ve been a sucker for soft, fluffy pillows and blankets. None are mine. They know soft. They know comfort. They take possession.
One such blanket was the vellux deluxe. Light yellow. Softer than my cats. No matter where this is in the lay out of blankets and comforters, they find it. When I get home from work each chilly winter day, one or more of the cats have dug down and is either on or under the vellux deluxe blanket. Again, it’s no longer mine.
Oh, the bed? Yeah, it’s not mine either.
But do I mind that what was mine is now theirs? Not for one moment. Those little fuzzy lovies are worth it. Besides, legally pets are property, so what is theirs IS mine. (But if you ever tell them that they are legally property, you’ll be very, very, very sorry. And it won’t be people bearing weapons that you should worry about. It will be 8 and 10 point fuzz balls of wrath.)
Humor Happens 