there is one way that i am absolutely not an inbetweener. in the ongoing battle between cat people and dog people, i come out solidly in favor of kytyns. (kytyn=non-patriarchal kytyn. take the ten out of kitten! take back the kytyn! okay, so i'm silly, in case you hadn't already noticed...)
i grew up with a cat. he was a stray when my family got him (i was probably about ten years old) and he was a dignified mature cat from the beginning. reminded me a lot of my uncle. very self-confident, very respectful of others. still had a silly streak, with occasional pouncy kytyn moods up until the year he died. but generally self-sufficient and agreeable to be around, a cat who knew how to take care of himself and stayed with people out of affection and mutual respect.
he died two years ago. i wrote a sad story about him when he was dying, it's named blacky.
the kytyn in my life now is an entirely different story. we got her when she was a sweet little ball of grey fluff who could fit on my hand. now she is a hellraiser. stroking her is like petting a bundle of roses, gorgeous silky petals tempt your touch and then attack you with thorns. my hands and one arm are all marked up right now cause i petted her last week.
still i love her. i have devised many embarassing nicknames for her, i pet her regularly and deal with the scars.
evil kytyn and kytyn rules of tennis are about her.
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