One of my less charming traits is that I get impatient and frustrated when things don't happen the way I think they should, in the exact timing my brain has chosen.
I've been wanting a dog for ages. Years. One could make a solid argument for decades.
Earlier this year, I fixated on it. Determined it was Time for the Dog. Looked at ways to move into a pet-friendly place, even though I love my house and my town. Whined about it more than was really attractive.
Mostly it was because I was lonely. My relationship wasn't going well and, in my efforts to learn how to operate as an empath with good energetic and emotional boundaries, I was spending a lot of time alone, to better sort through what was mine and what was everyone else's.
Moving didn't happen, dog didn't happen, things I was deeply determined I wanted didn't happen.
Instead, I watched a neighbor's labrador puppy a few times over the summer. Sweetest, most adorable dog you could imagine. Also the most exhausting. I could not keep up. I worried about her, gave her too many treats in hopes that she wouldn't notice that she wasn't getting adequate exercise, and eventually crawled home completely worn out.
And I realized I don't want a dog. At least not right now.
Yes, I will have a dog at some point in my life. But for now, I think I just want a lethargic cat. One that will nap with me, and encourage me to stay in bed. One that will lie on top of my computer and nose my book out of the way so I pet it. One that will be 100% fine with too many treats in place of exercise.
I still can't go out and adopt a cat, at least without moving or begging my landlord, neither of which I'm really in the mood for.
But I can go to the cat cafe in San Francisco and spend an hour with a bunch of kitties and drink a bucket of green tea.
Maybe tomorrow will have a different answer but, for now, borrowed cats. Lots of them.