My coworker Laura was profoundly spot-on when she observed, “most cats do the same things.” Lady’s got a point. Despite much evidence to the contrary (more than one cat, late-night runs to the grocery store for exclusively cat-related products, videos/pictures of cats on blog), I’m really trying very hard not to be the cat lady. There’s a woman at work with 15 cats (one of which has its own blog), scratches and scars up and down her arms, and a coffee mug that says “catfeinated.” She’s got a corner on that market, and the prospect isn’t that appealing to me in the first place. Bearing all this in mind, I’m gonna keep it short.

I named him Ollie. He drools excessively when he purrs and he sleeps on my face at night. And I mean directly on my face—over my nose and mouth, cutting off my air supply. And I swear that’s all you’ll hear about Ollie, unless he succeeds in suffocating me completely one night, and I’m on the news, in which case, my fate is sealed no matter how hard I try.