Cats
Since childhood, I have been a cat person. I love everthing about them: their soft heads and paddy-paws; being trapped on the sofa or in bed under a cat; when they tear around the house after the laser dot or a rogue ping-pong ball; watching them watch the wildlife through the window; and being herded into the home office every morning so they can nap near me. I grep up with cats off and on, had my own cat in college, and charmed my then boyfriend's (now husband's) cat with half a can of Pounce treats.
It turns out, I'm allergic to cats.
During cat-free periods, I've collected cat everything: pot holders, stickers, mugs, books, figurines (so many tiny porcelain cats from Fluff-n-Stuff in the mall), phone apps. I hoped the representation of cats could substitute for actually having one, but it only made the longing worse.
We were cat-less (and I was sniffle-less) for a few years, until I broke down upon seeing a pair of kittens in a pet store window. Now we have two cats, brothers, 3 ½ years and 13 ½ pounds. And I have a claritin and nasonex habit
Speculatius
These Northern European cut-out cookies are thin, crispy, and warmly spicy. Although traditionally a three-dimensional cookie, they can also be rolled and cut out into any shape, including cats.
Our boys, Jet and Onyx.