Adios Luna Kitty

The decision is being made for us. The townhome we are planning to move into does not accept pets.

Oops.

This is bad news for our cat Luna. Oh Luna, what will I do without you?

For starters, I will not fear for my life when you come sprinting around the corner with "crazy eyes." Cat owners, you KNOW this look. Those eyes get so big and round, you can barely see the iris color, then BAM. You are now covered in tiny red scratch marks and possibly a chunk of calf muscle is missing. Or if you are fortunate, the chair took the torture for you and is now bleeding threads.

I will not be forced to drive down the street with you perched on my car hood. Stubborn-turd-bucket (term of endearment, of course).

I will not be interrupted every two minutes by pitiful meows whining for attention or most likely food. I will not be forced to set aside work for your games of "Pet me, pet me, pet me...STOP PETTING NOW! *bite bite*" No one ever won those games Luna. I bled and you ended up outside.

Dear Luna, for all your crazy and stupidity, I actually have enjoyed being your slave this past year (we all know cats own their people, do not be fooled). You snuggled often... and bit me often, but I will choose to remember the good times. *commence montage*

Go home Luna, you are drunk.

You stink. Therefore you will be bathed and emerge as an over-sized rat.

You required tornado protection too Luna. Don't mess with Oklahoma weather.

Fall asleep and play dead. This is how we avoided conversing with annoying people.

 That time you were small enough to sleep on Daddy's shoulder (yes Daddy...pets are children too).

That time you were small enough to fit in my pocket.

Luna bug, I will cherish these times. And I will pray daily for whoever gets stuck with you.