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Aww. Poor Muffin.
I don't think we're born cat or dog, I think it's a lifestyle choice.
*grins*
When I was little, we had a cat called Mush. He was a massive cat. Not just to my tiny eyes, but to everyone who saw him. Oooh, people would say, i'nt'e big?
He used to hang out in the rafters over the hallway and come leaping out claws first at any guest who went upstairs to the loo.
In many ways he behaved more like a dog (rafter haunting habits aside). He was once seen chasing a doberman up the back street.
He was awesome. Liked to be cuddled and tickled.
I used to feed him (with help, I was 3). Then one day, when I got back from school (infant school, probably 4 or 5 years old) he wasn't there. He had, I was informed, been sent to live on a cat farm where he'd be happier and have lots of things to chase and play with.
Basically the doctors had suggested that he was most likely the cause of my increasingly severe eczema. Poor Mush. he did nowt wrong other than be possessed of fur. And in the end him not being there made no difference at all.
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