Pets.

Yesterday I was talking to my friend and she asked me if I liked pets and if my parents have pets.  I thought about it. I didn't know what to answer. I'm pretty sure she was referring to a dog, a cat or perhaps a couple of fish.  I had a good brain laugh and then answered seriously, "Um, my sister has a cat named Jangles that lives on the roof and there is an alligator in the basement."  You know when you've had something so long it doesn't seem abnormal at all until someone points it out?  I had that moment when I remembered that not everyone has an alligator in their basement.  That's funny.  That's something I love about my house.  In answer to that question I would respond a resounding no.  I do not like pets.  I do not understand having any pets unless they give milk or you need sweaters and then I can see justifying a cow or sheep.  I've never been into household pets of my own.  Maybe its because responsibility is not my best quality.  I did have a fish named Brevy that died when Mike fed it yougart rasins and now I have a pet named Liv that I am crazy about.  Who needs a pet when I have her?   There's nothing better.

 

Best thing ever.