People usually put themselves into one of two categories, dog people or cat people. For my whole life, I have 100% identified as the former because I used to be sane and respected. I love puppies, I like big fluffy hyperactive dogs, and my best childhood friend was my partner in crime, Benji, a wild, inbred and stinky Shih Tzu.

Yet a year and a half ago, I ended up with a wild, stinky asshole of a kitten named Arthur. By ended up with I mean chose to adopt and holy crap it was the best day ever (apart from when we adopted Margot).

We drove to Leeds to adopt him one late September morning and instantly knew he was going to be cute, fluffy and probably really small as he was the runt of the litter. He was so shy and timid at first and we thought that this would be his character. Little, cute and gentle.

Kitten Fat Cat

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Fast forward to a year and a half later and we have a ginormous long-haired beast of a cat that is half Maine-Coon, noisy as hell and smarter than me. His personal traits include knocking anything valuable off surfaces, sitting on my laptop when I am working from home and emailing my colleagues ‘ewfijewfjisjfoiajdiowjdo’ and climbing into any open draw and then biting you if you try to get him out. Oh and don’t get me started on him around Christmas.

Last March, we decided to add to our household and adopt Margot. She was 9 months old compared to Arthur who we took in at just 7 weeks. She is quite possibly the love of my life, at least four times nicer than my wife. She is the total opposite of Arthur. He is bold and excitable where as she is tiny and timid. He is into biting where as she just licks you non-stop. He is fat and she is…well she is a big round ball too.

It doesn’t help that they are both probably the most spoilt pets in the world. I can’t discipline anything so god help my children.

Here are the top ten things which I have learnt since living with being ruled by two feline companions.

Cats are assholes, plain and simple.

Got a nice glass of water on the side to drink in bed at night? They will drink from it, or if they are feeling especially dickish, slowly pat it towards the end of the table until it falls off. Every bloody night. All cats care about is food.

I thought dogs were bad with all their begging and sad puppy dog faces. Nothing compares to a small but weighty intruder clambering all over your face, back and legs at 3am in the morning meowing for more fucking food. I fed you five hours ago Arthur! Oh, sorry am I ignoring your clambering, why not start meowing right into my ear just in case I managed to sleep through your assault. Oh is that not working, just fucking bite me on the nose then mate! THIS HAPPENS EVERY FREAKING MORNING. The pictures above were taken of me whilst I was writing this blog and below on other occasions…I am not their owner, just a meat sack mattress that can walk and provide them with food and head scratches. Cats do not like to be petted all the time.

I wanted someone to love when I felt like I needed a hug. Now, I love my cats only when they need a hug or I get attacked. Who bites someone coming in for a hug! Who! My bed is a cat hotel and I am lucky if I get to choose the position I lie in each night.

Margot likes to sleep on my pillow whilst wrapped around my head purring louder than a tractor driving over gravel amidst a hurricane. Add to the mix Arthur, who sleeps in between us under the bedding with his fat little head just popped out, and you pretty much can picture our sleeping situation. Just lock them out you say, just kick them off. I challenge you to spend one night in our house with them locked out of our room. Just picture Jack in The Shining axing down the door at 2am and you can pretty much picture Arthur at 2am if he’s locked out of our bedroom, oh but with a lot of fucking mewing and chirruping. Showering alone is a thing of the past.

I have one of the only cats in the world that loves water. He literally gets in the shower and looks up at the water squinty his stupid face whilst it gets all wet. I haaate, I haaaate it when they stuff their butts in your face to show you that they love you.

Imagine if humans did that?! I mean how is this kind of behavior affectionate.

‘Hi Jeremy, nice New Year? How’s the wife and kids? Oh good, to hear’ Now here is my asshole in your face because I love you man. No, it doesn’t happen. Cut it the fuck out you feline freaks. Cats have mad moments around once a day.

You can sense them coming as their eyes go so big and black and they look right at you as if to say ‘It’s time’ and then they sprint around the place jumping off wardrobes, chests and walls shouting ‘Parkour’ and ripping down the curtains. Thank god these only last around 20 minutes at a time or I think I would need a daily dose of valium. Hair everywhere. Hair in my mouth, hair on my jumpers, hair on my hair that isn’t my hair. Why the hell did I adopt two long haired cats. Short haired’s fine. Short haired cats are good. I feel like my mouth is constantly full of armpit hair when I go to bed at night. Reading and working on a laptop becomes a challenge.

Yet even with all of the above. I fucking love my cats.