Regarding the Cat...

Ah, the baleful gaze of my cat. No matter how many times I tell her that she is my cat, she insists that I am nothing more than a surrogate producing 'kittens' for her because she is spayed.

Jade loves my husband. She cuddles him and grooms him. If I touch him when she is near, she gives me the 'look'.

I offend her.

She loves her 'kittens', which are my sons, our other cat, and, most recently, our min-pin cross. She even grooms and makes nice with the big (huge) dogs.

She sleeps with my oldest son, and licks his hair. She snuggles him and purrs.

I am the one that found her, who adopted her, but she will never love me.

"Mine," she says. "MY husband, MY kittens, MY dogs."

She doesn't even care enough to hate me. I'm just there. Occasionally she will deign to let me stroke her, but she gets bored and runs off to let my two year old ride her like a pony.

When we had chickens, Jade and the silkies would conspire together. I suspect they were forming a fuzzy mafia.

Even Harold, our other cat will hesitate when I express affection for him. "I have to check with Jade," he tells me. "Get a referral and I will get back to you."

Sigh.