I never wanted to be a cat lady (part 2)

Dove and Oliver were undoubtedly cute in those kitten days, to be sure, but they were also monster nightmares for me. They constantly were getting into things they shouldn't. Things were broken or damaged in ways that I had never anticipated. Glass vases, plates, britta filter pitcher, wires, plants, and many more. I frequently was angry at them and then almost immediately also feeling guilty about that anger.

There is something else I should explain. Not too long before getting my kitties, our family dog, Tucker, passed away from some nasty cancer. He was young and it felt like he was unjustly stolen from us. His loss of life was felt quite deeply by us. And for me, I picked him out from the puppies. I lived at home with him for the first four years. He was incredibly sweet and uplifting dog. He always made you feel happier. He had a smiling face. I was grieving over his death when I got my kitties. In some part of my mind, the most wise, safest approach was to not love or have affection for my cats. Then if something bad happened to them, it would be not great loss to me. No great pain to my heart. Seemed like a very good plan at the time.