The Little Monsters

I grew up with an assortment of cats, horses, dogs, pigs, chickens, and one hamster so I’m an animal lover. Once I graduated from college I got a cat as quickly as possible (I had a dog briefly in college before realizing I was an idiot and could barely take care of myself, never mind a dog.)

Myles is a very needy cat and we were wracked with guilt when we’d leave him alone (new pet owners), so we eventually got another cat named Nero. Myles is everyone’s friend, he’ll great you at the door when you come home, have lengthy discussions with you about his various complaints, and cuddle the majority of the time.

Nero?

Nero has good days and bad days. On his good days he’s extremely affectionate in a quiet cuddly way and will chirp at you for attention. On his bad days he hides under the tub or the blankets and refuses to come out from his cover because they’re out to get him. I have yet to discover who ‘they’ are, but apparently they’re not messing around. Sometimes he runs through the house, his belly touching the ground, looking out for snipers.

Their nicknames are “The Poop” (Myles) and “Pusses” (Nero).

From this description, you may assume that Myles is the better cat, however I tell him frequently “you are the worst cat in the apartment”. Case and point, the time we came back from going away for the weekend and he had broken my dresser.

And yes, he was standing in front of the scene of the crime all on his own. Bastard.

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