One of the may ways cat ownership is like parenthood*: sleep deprivation!
The key difference here is the vastly superior mobility of cats to babies, as well as their ability to instantly sense from wherever they are in your home that you are waking up. The second my brain starts to drift out of dreamland and into reality, regardless of whether my alarm has gone off or it is the middle of the night and I'm just getting ready to do the wake-up-roll-over-fall-back-asleep thing, I feel little paws on the side of my bed and hear a sweet little "mrawr!?" There she is. She jumps up beside me and purrs like she's never purred before, giving all the loving a girl could want.
It's like she has a magical sense for my wakefulness and sleep patterns and if I didn't know any better I would think that she wants to take advantage of every waking moment and spend it with me.
Then I remember that she's a cat and stereotypically shouldn't be missing me per se, because she's supposed to be all aloof and unattached, the way cats are.
Then I remember again that I have a special bond with my cat that regular people (or other felines) could never understand, and that my dear kitty loves me like a baby loves her Mamma.
Then I realize that this whole youngish single woman owning a cat thing is some kind of societal trick to make me want to have babies as soon as possible. I find myself being totally okay with sleep deprivation and dealing with the poo of another living thing, all because she is so cute and loveable. If she falls asleep on my lap, I avoid moving even if I'm hungry or have something else to do, because I don't want to disrupt her.
So apparently my ovaries are taking a seriously roundabout route to get me into baby-land. Thanks ovaries, and good morning.
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