There is a little critter back in the states that I hate to admit that I miss.

She isn't my cat, actually. She is my dad's. Or my brother's? I am not clear for certain. They had obtained her when I was living in Clearwater and had kitty cats of my own years ago.

When I moved back into my father's place, like most people in their mid-20's weighed down with school loan debt are wont to do nowadays, I found myself staring into the face of evil. Pure, fuzzy evil.

And she goes by "Kiki".

Kiki likes to scratch. And bite. And randomly attack you. But not in the cute "Imma chew ya!" way. In the "YOU KILLED MY FATHER, PREPARE TO DIE" way. If I sneeze she launches at my face bits. Or smacks me when I snore too loud.

God help you if you pet her when she does NOT want to be petted. You'll draw back a nub.

Or if you shut the bathroom door without her accompanying you.

Because she likes to watch you do your filthy human business. (I have a massive scar on my knee from attempting to race her to the bathroom. She purposefully, and with malice, tripped me. Just... just let her watch you pee.)

But over the years we've more or less come to an understanding.

I feed you, water you, pet you (on your terms), and let you sleep in my bed. I get to keep my face.

So far, it has been an amicable peace treaty.

Sometimes she even purrs.

But mainly she takes up most of my bed, scooting me to a tiny sliver left for myself. Somehow cats spread like liquid mercury when they find a surface that they like.

In all fairness, it prepared me for my relationship with @sammosk. Who, also, spreads like liquid mercury. I inevitably wake up pressed against walls or half-way off the bed every night. But that's okay. I still love him. And he doesn't go for the face when I try to move him. Sometimes he even makes a sound that almost sounds like purring in his sleep.

All in all, I'd say I've upgraded.

But I do miss Kiki.