It is kitten season. Those of you that know me, probably know this is one of my favorite times a year.

Never heard of kitten season? Let’s say love is in the air and little tootsie-roll-sized bundles of cuteness are soon to appear. In droves. Seriously, though; get your cat spayed or neutered.

Ok enough of the public service announcement.

Growing up, I always wanted a cat, but regretfully never got one.  My dad was a stickler and completely inflexible in his thinking regarding cats and where they belonged; the farm.  So, there I was; left with visiting my childhood friends’ cat and pining after cute kittens that were on the farm my dad grew up on. I remember being out in the barn for hours with a lap full of cats-I probably would have slept out there if someone would have let me.

Cats have always been a type of therapy for me.  They are quiet, independent creatures that show just the right amount of love when they want to.  I find comfort in the repetitive nature of petting the soft fur while listening to a consistent purr.  Dogs, while I love them, seem like the needy girlfriend that calls eight times a day “just to see how you are”.

While I own a perfectly wonderful cat of my own, I also foster for the Humane Society.  Kitten season leaves my guest bathroom either a birthing unit or kitten playground.  Even my husband (a self-professed “Dog” person through and through) can’t deny the joy kittens bring to our home as we watch them figure out how to walk, climb and pounce; seeing their personalities develop right before our eyes.  Fostering kittens was the perfect crazy-cat-lady starter kit. I may have started as an apprentice, but I’m now a full-blown crazy cat lady. I even tried to get my husband to buy swim trunks that have cats wearing sunglasses and drinking from a pineapple. Don’t judge.

Find Peace.  Find Joy.  Find your version of my cat obsession.