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I grew up in a household where animals were not allowed, except for the occasional short-lived goldfish. All of this changed when I adopted my first cat when I was on my own in college. Having never had a furry animal before, there was no way of knowing that my new friend's behavior was not typical for his species. He plays fetch with those little plastic ring toys, chasing and even bringing them back for me to throw again about 90% of the time. His appetite is voracious, often eating until he vomits. His nose gets wet to the point of dripping when he's excited, and, best of all, he chews on furniture.

I listened to all the animal stereotypes, and it seemed to me that I probably fit the cat-lady profile. If I wanted a pet to chew my stuff, then I would have adopted a dog from the shelter, not my 1.4 pounds of orange trouble. His "canine" teeth are also rather large, and every kitchen chair I own is riddled with puncture marks. He seems to prefer gnawing on wooden objects, although he did appear to especially enjoy the two wool sweaters he ruined. Mind you-nothing is sacred. Just ask my husband about the dents on his laptop! (I also have a sneaking suspicion that he may be a Republican because he tore up the cover on my copy of Hillary Clinton's autobiography, but that's another issue entirely.) My mother finally got herself a cat shortly after I got mine, and that's when I noticed that there was something unique about him. We started calling him Puppy-Cat (or I've heard others call him Cah-Dog).

Fast forward five years: I fell in love and married a man who already had a cat and two dogs. Having four animals in the house (and all sleeping in our bed) makes us feel like we practically run our own private kennel. We have a neighbor check on them on the rare occasions we go out of town, and our house always looks like something from The Lord of the Flies when we return. Now that I have another, more traditional cat as a frame of reference, I'm convinced that my original cat is uniquely in touch with his canine side. Our other cat acts more, well, catty, although he can be quite clumsy. (I don't think he's read the handbook that tells him that he should always land on his feet.) Overall he is very aloof, only accepting petting on his terms, while my cah-dog gets in your face and purrs like crazy for affection.

Unless someone has a severe allergy to animals, I think it should be a crime to raise children without pets around. Just like children, they can be a little overwhelming at times. (You can forget about keeping up with all the fur I vacuum here!) In the Bizarro world in which we live, I also believe that one of our dogs thinks she's a cat, complete with kicking the grass with her hind feet to cover up her poop like she's in a litter box. Out of all of our pets, those two get along the best. There is balance and harmony in our little world...but usually only when everyone is asleep.

Learn more about this author, Rebecca Bauer.
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