All my exes live in Texas

I really miss having a cat, but my family is allergic to them. I'm 100% convinced that the reason cat videos are so popular is because there are countless individuals like me that have to live vicariously through YouTube.

This is not to say that I love every cat I come across. I've had some lemons in my lifetime, believe me. The upcoming holidays tend to bring back memories of all my exes.

For instance, there was the cat who hated the baby Jesus and His Christmas tree. Once the cat experienced the joy of climbing the tree, knocking it over, and then chasing the ball ornaments around, there was no stopping it's reign of terror.

I finally resigned myself to the fact that when I got home I'd have to prop the tree back up, sweep up the broken ornaments, hunt down the missing ones, and spank the cat like a lunatic.

By January 1st all I had left was the elephant man of Christmas trees. I even quit propping it back up after awhile. The final nail in the coffin, though, was when the little fucker ripped open all the presents. This is one of those special moments when all you can do is survey the carnage in calm, thoughtful silence before suiting up for God dang war.

Then there was the cat that murdered every toilet paper roll I ever bought. Before it discovered the toilet paper roll, it had been a pretty good cat. But then the light went off in its head that the toilet roll spun. Once it got the taste of blood, there was no limit to what this cat was capable of.

It turns out that toilet paper rolls are just the gateway drug to bigger and better things, like paper towel rolls, wrapping paper, and human flesh. The cat became a killing machine, shredding anything that crossed it's path.

Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped that cat up in a tight cocoon of toilet paper, and you know what? When he finally woke up, he never messed with that shit again.

There are some cats that don't want you to have nice things, like drapes or furniture, for instance. These cats are the worst kind, because they are natural born destroyers of things. They don't care if you own a $5000 dollar couch or one from the Salvation Army; it is merely a plaything to debauche at their whimsy.

I can't tell you the number of drapes and easy chairs I replaced before finally replacing the feline. The last straw came the day the bastard climbed my bare leg while I was doing dishes, then clamped on for dear life as I jumped around like a psycho. I know people say a cat is a commitment for life, but if I can divorce my husband, I can most certainly re-home an abusive cat for sending me to the emergency room.

There is an evil more vile and wicked than anything I've mentioned yet. It's hard to talk about, as it opens a lot of old wounds and I relive the agony and gnashing of teeth all over again. It's the cat who pees on anything and everything sacred and good.

There's nothing worse than pulling out a load of warm, fluffy, mountain fresh laundry, placing it in a basket to fold, only to turn around and discover a cat pissing in it while making direct eye contact. This literally hurts.

Once I had a cat that was so sinister, so dead inside, that it would balance itself in the hanger rod in the closet and pee down onto the clothes hanging beneath. Fun fact: the fragrant aroma of cat piss will never come out of your nine day old braided wool coat. NOT EVER.

That same cat peed in the middle of my bed every time I washed the sheets. That one was actually the end of my career as a cat lady. I'd been defeated and betrayed in the worst of ways. My friend, understanding the risks, took the cat. She says now the cat only pees in the shower and she seems fine with it, so all's well that ends well.

All this focusing on the negative has helped me to not miss cats so much. This has been a very therapeutic post for me, but the bottom line is, there will always be a part of me that longs for the toxic relationship that can only be shared with a cat.