this is izzy. she’s five months old. and, she’s mine (poor thing).

i’m not a cat person. i’m a big, slobbery, thinks-it-can-fit-in-your-lap, ginormous dog person. everyone who knows me, knows i’m not a cat person. since i decided two days ago to take a gander through the ASPCA and walked out with Izzy, more than a few friends have wondered aloud whether this was some sort of emotional crisis.

but, for the first time in my life, i felt an overriding desire to take care of something. the selfish need to be selfless. i don’t know if that’s a crisis or catharsis.

sure, she figured out how to remove her snap collar the first night by hanging herself from my bike spokes. she’s made a hammock out of the curtains. my computer cord will not survive the winter thanks to her knawing habit. and her favorite activity is sprinting from one end of the apartment to the other, diving into the litter box and kicking all the litter out like a burrowing dervish. 

i bet she likes slobbering pooches, too.