Today, I want to talk a little bit about my other SO. His name is Rocky, and he's a 10 year old, 13 pound orange tabby I adopted about 8 months ago.
Growing up, I always had cats around. And as a teenager, my family acquired a basset hound as well. So I have always associated home with pets. When I moved out on my own, I was hesitant to get a one--it took me 8 years of being on my own before I got up the nerve to acquire one. I take the responsibility that comes with pet ownership very seriously, and I wanted to be sure I could provide a good environment for an animal.
So about 8 months ago I set myself to the task of finding a cat. I went to the excellent SPCA in Boston, since I firmly believe adopting shelter kitties. And I was immediately attracted to a playful ten month old unfortunately named Boo Boo (sidenote: why do people do this to animals? Seriously????) until my friend pointed out I would still have Boo Boo when I was 40.
Sufficiently freaked out, I kept looking until I saw this other cat, waaaay in the back, with a pretty orange patch on his nose. I looked at his description--he was old. PERFECT. So in due course, Rocky (aka Rocko, Rockstar, Rockefeller--I'm amazed he's not totally confused as to his actual name, not that he responds to any of the above anyway) came home with me.
So what does cat ownership have to do with this blog? Well, I eat the way I eat because I want to be healthy. Pets have been shown over and over again to have a symbiotic relationship with their owners: their presence lowers blood pressure, makes people feel less lonely, and can otherwise relieve stress. I can personally vouch that I am a happier person for having Rocky around; it's hard to be cranky when you have a warm fuzzy critter snuggling up to you asking for head rubs.