there is one way that i am absolutely not an inbetweener. in the ongoing battle between cat people and dog people, i come out solidly in favor of kytyns. (kytyn=non-patriarchal kytyn. take the ten out of kitten! take back the kytyn! okay, so i'm silly, in case you hadn't already noticed...)

i grew up with a cat. he was a stray when my family got him (i was probably about ten years old) and he was a dignified mature cat from the beginning. reminded me a lot of my uncle. very self-confident, very respectful of others. still had a silly streak, with occasional pouncy kytyn moods up until the year he died. but generally self-sufficient and agreeable to be around, a cat who knew how to take care of himself and stayed with people out of affection and mutual respect.

he died two years ago. i wrote a sad story about him when he was dying, it's named blacky.

the kytyn in my life now is an entirely different story. her name is jessie, we got her when she was a sweet little ball of grey fluff who could fit on my hand. now she is a hellraiser. stroking her is like petting a bundle of roses, gorgeous silky petals tempt your touch and then attack you with thorns. my hands and one arm are all marked up right now cause i petted her last week.

still i love her. i have devised many embarassing nicknames for her, i pet her regularly and deal with the scars.

evil kytyn and kytyn rules of tennis are about her.