A couple of times a year, Skitter and I get pet-hungry. We sit around on the deck with our popsicles, wondering if it’s time to add a little critter of some kind to the household. I think Skitter needs a kitten. I think she would do well with a baby feline who would curl up with her for naps and nighttime, but otherwise demand absolutely nothing from her. Cats are so good about living their own lives as independent royalty—so separate and above us peons who feed them, change their kitty litter, and keep them supplied with catnip. Cats don’t even pretend to care about anybody but themselves—even though we know they secretly tolerate us. Skitter needs a pet like that: a pet with no needs, except to curl up and snuggle for warmth.
Skitter is usually the one who brings up the possibility of adopting more exotic types of pets, like maybe a chimpanzee or a kangaroo. I suspect Skitter watches National Geographic animal shows when I’m not around, because today she asked if we could get a meerkat. I will give Skitter just about anything she asks for, but I don’t think Centerville is a place a meerkat wold want to live—even with us. We probably could have made that work in Delta, but we don’t own a tumbleweed ranch there anymore.
Skitter and I will talk about pet options for another day or so, and then we’ll move on to another subject. My Bow Tie o’ the Day and Shirt o’ the Day in this photo scream out the kind of pet I’m always angling for. I’m a card-carrying mutt gal. Skitter doesn’t know it yet, but that means she’s a mutt gal too.