Until I got married, I led a relatively cat-free existence. Ever since my wife came along, though, my life has become whatever the opposite of cat-free is. Catful? Anyway, five years ago I considered myself strictly a dog person, and I would've scoffed at the idea of the thirty-two year old me being a cat owner. I'd always kind of dismissed cats as selfish creatures with somewhat of an evil streak. Well, time has passed, and I can say without any hesitation that my preconceptions were absolutely spot on. If I wasn't the one who fed my two cats or scooped their litter boxes I'm pretty sure they'd have worked out some way to murder me by now. But I have to grudgingly admit that they have a lot more personality than I initially gave them credit for. You might say I've grown rather fond of them, a fondness that still remains even when I come home to find that they've crapped in the houseplants. The twenty seven-year old me would hate me.

But on to some actual pictures. Being an elementary school teacher, my wife has summers off, and she'll sometime foster kittens for Austin Pets Alive! (a nonprofit organization dedicated to keeping Austin a "no-kill" city), giving them a home and keeping them fed until they are old enough to be adopted by new owners. These little guys were only eight weeks old, and stupidly cute. You can claim to be a dog person as much as you like, but it's impossible not to be smitten by a bunch of kittens. And if you're not, then what are you? Some kind of soulless empty husk of a human being? Get off my blog! Weirdo.