I've never really been a cat person.
I never really know what to do with them. You can't roughhouse with them like dogs, they usually don't seem to care about you at all, and they're a little creepy. However, some cats seem to pick up on my disdain for them and make it their personal mission to sway me. It usually ends up with me awkwardly petting them and then testing the "They Always Land on All Fours" theory.
Lately, my lack of interest in cats has taken on a new life in my neighbourhood. Over the last several weeks, there has been a clear infestation of stray cats and they all seem to congregate (and plot?) on my front and back porches. They no longer are afraid or startled by my clapping my hands or throwing things at them. They just stare. Right on through to my soul, daring me to defy them again.
I feel like a prisoner in my own home. They sleep on my wicker and cushions, leaving tufts of hair everywhere. They stealthily creep around my yard, popping out unexpectedly. They get in the most heinous sounding cat fights I've ever heard. Probably over who can rule my roost.
You can't see the other two in this picture, but they have taken over.