image via True Life of a Southern Belle
The other night I had a dream that someone gave me a cute kitten in a box as a gift. Immediately I thought: "Oh no. I love this thing and now I won't be able to travel ever again." Luckily it was only a dream. I am finding it increasinly hard to reconcile my love of animals with my wanderlust nature, and the fact that I live in New York City. If you have been reading this blog long enough, you will remember that not long ago I had two very loveable and amazing pups of my own that were like children to me. It still feels strange when people ask if I have any pets to say simply answer "no." I have dogs in my heart, a heart that was literally broken in half when I lost them to heart disease and cancer. A few years ago I also lived with two cats, one of which had kittens making us a seven cat and one dog household. Yes, it was as hectic and hairy as it sounds. But I loved every minute of it. Watching the kittens try to curl up with my pitbull, and explore the apartment the day their eyes opened. It was heaven. I am the kind of girl who won't recoil at a full face puppy lick or a muddy paw shake at the dog park. I know that some day I will summon the courage to jump back in to the pet owner life, but meanwhile I am content to simply wave hello to every four legged cutie on my way to the airport.