My cat and I are not on speaking terms.
I like her just fine (no, really), but she’s adopted an attitude that is rather snooty, even for a cat.
Which suits me just fine, really.
Since I have a decidedly Catholic cat, I’m fairly certain she believes in heaven. And I have a good idea what her vision of heaven is: an electric blanket, a never ending food supply, and my disembodied hips and hair. The hip would be as if I were lying on my side; the hair would be fanned across the bed, allowing her to tapdance, jigaboo, and waltz through it as if she were high on cat nip. And she would drool in it. Copiously.
Lyrical Fool 