Don't worry people, I'm neither preggers nor suspected preggers though my roommate Brandon believes I am a fertility goddess. (It's the boobs.) A few months ago, said roommate and I almost adopted two beautiful smooshed-faced kitties, aka Persians. Both were gray adult cats--one traditional "blue" and the other a distinguished silver--that needed to move from their Brooklyn home because their humans couldn't spend enough time with them anymore.
Did I mention that they were beautiful? And took really cute pictures in boxes!
After finding them on craigslist, I emailed their humans, and they said I sounded like the ideal pet owner for the brother kitties that could never (we insist) be separated. Brandon and I had already discussed litter box placement and which kitty would sleep where when our downstairs landlady said she was "deathly allergic" to cats. It was a depressing evening when Brandon came back upstairs, after taking her homemade Christmas candy no less, to tell me that we could not become kitty parents. As I emailed the Brooklyn couple of the bad news, I felt my long-awaited smooshed-faced kitty dream slip through my fingers. A few days later when I checked online for their pictures, they were nowhere to be found. So, Two Gray Smooshed-Faced Brother Kitties: I know we could have been happy together, but I wish you the best (I love you...sniffle).
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