Hey little sister, I wrote about our pets like you wanted me to do!

Oh goodness, do you ever go back and read something you've written and then think, "why didn't I proofread that?" Or "why did I write that for people to read in the first place?" Because I do, every single time I go back and read anything I've written on here.

Anyhow, Easter has passed us now and warm weather is upon us. It is absolutely gorgeous outside, and Alabama is enjoying the time of year that brings terrible weather but also gorgeous, sunny, not-too-hot-but-not-cold days before the blazing sauna of summer starts. I went home for Easter and spent a beautiful couple of days with my family. It was really great to see them. And also our pets.

I live in a yardless apartment and work very long hours. A pet is really out of the question until I get a place with a yard. But I grew up out in the woods, away from heavy traffic and leash laws. We had dogs that ran free and cats that climbed trees. And. I. Loved. It.

My family currently has a dog, Scarlett, and a cat, Ookie. Ookie's original name was Captain, but he had conjunctivitis when we adopted him from the shelter and had the nastiest looking eyes. We started calling him Ookie Eye and the nickname has stuck, though his eyes are healthy and clean now. Scarlett and Ookie are the best of friends and I miss having animals.

Ookie and Scarlett when Ookie was still a kitten. "Hey, Scarlett, let's play"

"AHA!"

"Now you're mine! Meow!"

Since moving here and being petless, I have had to rely on others' pets to fill the void. I've really become quite pathetic. For one thing, I'm writing in a blog about my puppy and kitty. For another, my phone has become filled with pictures of me with other folks' animals. And I wrote all of those ridiculous comments above. If I go to your house and you have an animal, I will make it my mission to make that animal think I am its best friend before leaving.

Scarlett is absolutely the craziest and sweetest dog I've ever met. She's not very obedient, and only comes when called if she feels like it. If she doesn't feel like it, she crawls across the yard like we can't see her until she gets to the woods and then she takes off.  You can't tame the wind, after all. But we know that in a few minutes she'll be back. And then she wants to snuggle in our laps, where she either gazes adoringly at our faces or immediately falls asleep. She's like a baby. Except she doesn't scream or cry. Unless it's bath time. Apparently, baths are the worst thing. Those last few sentences were so brief, it's as if Hemingway wrote them, if Hemingway were a dog person. And we all know that Hemingway was definitely a cat person.

And our cat is ridiculous, too. He's huge, and orange, and fluffy, and quite the cat. His favorite thing to do is to sleep in flowerpots, and really, who can blame him? He just moves around the porch from one flower pot to another, doing what cats do (which is sleeping, if you don't know). And the dog will walk by, wagging her hairy tail, and you'll see a paw reach up and swipe playfully at it. And then the puppy will turn around and they'll touch noses.

And then your heart melts and you think you can never be happier than you are in that moment. And then you realize how crazy you are because a million things can make you happier than that, such as seeing Christ, or getting married, or having a baby. And then you realize that you just really a need a pet because you're the crazy pet lady. And then you remember that you live in an apartment that doesn't have a yard. And then you call your friend that has a cat or a dog and will let you come over and you can pet said pet. And then everyone judges you for posting about it on a blog. And then you don't care and post it anyway.