Sharing, Single Style

I'm a single girl and that ain't no secret. As a single girl, it is my duty to have cats.
And I fulfill that duty to the best of my capacity.
I have two cats - G Love and Maggie Sauce. I got them from some consumate stoners on the Southwest side of town; not bad people, really, but always in trouble and always having a billion people crowded into the most damp, low-ceilinged, no hot water kind of absolutely trench-breath smelling place that you can imagine in Tucson, AZ.
So of course one of them had a beloved cat that he of course didn't get spayed and the cat of course got out of the mess and got knocked up.
And along came Maggie and Grace, two tiny baby kittens who romped and played and slid into the food bowl like any other adorable kitten.
They never stopped growing and now I have these gigantic, rambunctious, spayed but still clawed things in my house that play at 4 am and chase each other through the two rooms that make up my own little slice of moldy American pie.
G Love has hit an incredible 13 pounds and she's not fat - she's BIG. She's tall and buff and full of fur. Maggie is nothing to sneeze at, either - weighing in at an also well-proportioned 11 pounds, my home is a little over-taken by the cats.
They're like a great big, expensive piece of performance art.
Since my family is coming to visit next week, I thought collars would make them look more taken care of, thus making me look like the responsible adult I'm not. I got red collars with pink tags for each of them. Now, I've tried collars and harnesses and stuff in the past to give these animals some type of ID but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, they manage to get free of any accessories before the charge even clears the bank. I always wanted to be careful that their little kitten collars would allow for their little kitten games and allow room for their little kitten necks to grow.
This time is different.
I don't care if they choke and act like they can't breath. I can get two of my fat fingers underneath each collar and therefore, neither of them are going to choke to death. Needless to say, when I put the collars one them they both started acting like the collars were going to kill them immediately by releasing some type of poisonous cousin to Antrax into their skin. Dudes, you're covered in fur and ain't nothin' comin' up in yo' skin. If they were people, they would have been melodramtically grasping at their throats and loundly sucking in air, hoping to make themselves pass out for effect.
I swear to Jesus, Grace walked around backwards trying to back out of her collar for 3 HOURS. That's not right. Maggie would look over at me and lift a hind paw to itch the collar. She looked over at me EVERY TIME she itched the fucking collar. Get over it Mags, I know that the collar is not itching you - it's specially made from non-itchy nylon polymers and is fitted onto animals with a hell of a lot less hair than you have. No, there is no poison.
Quit scratching.

And remarkably, they have managed to leave their collars on for....
drum roll, please.........

five days.
Count 'em up - 1,2,3,4,5.
Five days of knowing that if the bitches run off into the ghetto, someone who is kind and fair can call me and tell me where the beasties are.
It's the little things, you know? It's the litttle things that make life as a single girl so worthwhile.

Someone actually had the gall to tell me that because I'm single and childless, I have a lot more time to workout. Theoretically, that's true.
But fuck you.
Your time is not more valuable than mine. I've chosen to not marry the first (and for that matter the second) immature man that asks me. I've also chosen to not give birth and for the record, to not even conceive. You could also have selected some birth control, this is the millenium, there are all kinds of options for family planning so don't come crying to me about your goddamn time constraints because frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
Your time is no more valuable than mine. I chose to devote my time to me and to my pets. You chose to procreate. It's all about choices, mon chere, and mine has been to NOT get all tied down and ragged. It pisses me off so much when people think that because I'm single I have all this time and all of these opportunites that they don't have. It's not by magic or fate that I am single and childess - it's by choices that I made. When I decide that I want to devote time to something besides myself and my cats, I'll look around, get married and find a kid under a mushroom or something hippy like that. When I do choose to end my single status, I'll do so understanding that my time is going to have to be used differently than it is now and I swear to Jesus (again, I know!) that I'm not going to look at single people like they have all the freedom and leisure that I used to have. It's such bullshit to place a value on someone because of the children and husband that they have or do not have. Get over it - you chose those details, I chose me.
You don't get more because you had a kid - you just have to share what you do get. I don't have to share and it's AWESOME.

arizonasarah at 9:21 a.m.

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