Furry Silver Linings

So we've got two new kittens... Daisy and Duke. 
'Omg dey soooo cute!' I hear you all cry! Yes. Yes they are. 

When you look at these adorable little fur balls on Instagram, they just look heavenly. So why am I going into some sort of post feline-natal meltdown?

How the hell will I cope with a baby if I worry at least 15 times a day that one kitten will poke its eye out on the cactus, push the TV over on his sister or get caught in the mechanics of the reclining chair? I know they are about the size of my fist and can barely push a meow out, but when you live in the dramatic thriller of my mind, this becomes a strong possibility.

And why does everything smell like poo? I can literally smell poo everywhere and now have this constant paranoia that I smell like cat shit. 

My morning thought process now consists of the following:

1. Checking my shoes and clothes 3 times now for skid marks because I am definitely aware of a shitty aroma in the vicinity.

2. Why does my cup of tea taste like poo?  

3. People will most likely think I've soiled myself.

4. Calling my boyfriend crying because I am 90% sure one of them is going to drown in the toilet.

Who the bloody hell said having cats was easy? 
They are like tiny ninjas, they jump soundlessly around the room and then army roll through the gap in the door before you even get your head round to look for them. They work as a team too; one throws them self down the back of the sofa to distract me whilst the other makes a break for it. 

But they are also thoughtful and considerate as well. Just the other day Duke left a really cute little momento of piss on my jumper for me to wear as my new eau du toilette. #ironic

But then they fall asleep and they are like beautiful instagrammable Angels that I must spam everyone with. And all is forgotten. 

They say it will get easier... and they do sometimes pee in the litter; or on route to the litter when we pick them up mid wee to put them in the right place. 

Summer was maybe not the safest season to get them... For us I mean. Have you ever had a cat climb up your bare thigh? I look like someone stabbed me with a fork. 

They don't tell you that you completely lose sense of perspective either. Every other cat we see suddenly looks gigantic; we actually stop in horror to point at the genetically mutated animals of the neighbourhood and pray that ours never grow that big. 

All joking aside, I am becoming accustomed to the smell of shit and I've accepted that my summer body will be subject to puncture wounds... and when I come home and Daisy climbs up to give me a little nuzzle, my amnesia resets and they become my perfect babies again. 

So remember kids; A kitten is for life, and if you have a sensitive gag reflex, I strongly suggest getting a goldfish. 

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