Since moving back home, I've found that the real star of my instagram isn't me, but my parents' cat, Lola. Lola - until recently - spent 90% of her time in my room, curled up on my bed. I'd wake up in the night to find her snuggled against me. She even had her own side of the bed... okay, that's rather a sad thing to admit, isn't it?
Lola's banned from my room now, I'm afraid - as gorgeous and cuddly as she is (she is literally the softest, fluffiest cat you will ever meet) her long hair also means she brings in a lot of dirt. It didn't bother me too much as she tended to sleep on an old blanket, until a couple of weeks ago when I stroked her and a slug fell off her coat. ONTO. MY. BED. Now guys, you may not know this about me, but slugs freak me the eff out. I'm fine with spiders and most other creepy crawlies - I don't LIKE them, but I can deal. But slugs? I just can't. THEY'RE SO DISGUSTING. So having one landing on my bed was pretty much the worst thing that could happen to me, and now this is a cat free zone.
We've had cats since I was 11 and I've always been very fond of them - I'm definitely much more of a cat person than a dog person - and I do think a lot about getting a cat of my own one day. The only thing putting me off was potential vet costs (although I would definitely follow my parents' lead and get pet insurance!) although now I'm a little unsure I want my own pet. Slug incidents aside, there's also the likes of dead mice and litter trays to consider, and suddenly I'm not so keen after all.
I don't know, though. I'm not sure anything can beat the affection you get from a pet. I'm sure in a few years, I'll have forgotten the downsides and will be desperate to bring my own fluffy little bundle of joy home again.