The Cat Who Came for Dinner. (And stayed forever!)

Allow me to introduce myself. I am a 40-year-old bachelor who just recently finished time at local Christian college. I obviously live off campus and as a result young ladies tend to drop a cat or kittens off in my apartment. I am a sucker for a pretty face and I have owned three cats in my lifetime. I am good therefore with the feline species. I am knowledgeable in cat savoir-faire. Oh yea, I am stupid, gullible, and cannot say no to a lovley young lady to save my life. I am not sure there is any man who can. So here I am a 40-year-old man with a cat in my possession. She has belonged to me for nearly a year now. She has a place in my heart, a spot on my bed, a made a hole in my wallet. Nevertheless she is a part of me. I speak of her whenever I leave the house. Each morning I try to “sell her” to the coffee house girls I see in my backyard. I pretend to complain about her, try to pan her off on anyone who will listen, but the truth is she is mine to keep. I wake up each morning with a cat curled up beside me and know that she has won my heart. I just wish I knew a way to keep her from following into the bathroom, or prevent her from watching me as I take a bath. Her given name is Nakita. She answers more often to “Dipstick” however. Either way I love her. She can often be found on or around my bed each night, and is always there to proof read EVERYTHING that comes out of my printer. Her favorite activity is jumping into whatever chair I want to sit in a few seconds before I get there. When I pick her up and move her to another location she pretends to get angry and hides in a paper grocery bag in the corner of the room. She then jumps out of the bag as I walk by and grabs my ankles with her paws. I call them ‘ankle hugs’! Her tail is active as she does so I know she loves me.