The final stage of becoming a real writer

Secretly, in the back of my head, I've been worried that I won't ever become a real writer until I have a small fuzzy mammal or two around. Specifically, cats. It seems that the vast majority of people who are literarily respected have cats and have a snarky, lolarious relationship with said catS.

I have two dogs and three cats I'm pet sitting for the soon-to-be in-laws (who I love dearly).

The entire menagerie seems suitable for the task of snark and lolarity. Especially while I'm trying to write on a computer that isn't mine.

Because unlike cats, dogs can't really be said to have mischievous intents. They're just so *well-meaning*. Especially when one is an obsessive border collie and the other is a lazy, giant puppy that weighs 30lbs at six months old. And a cat who's an escape artist, and has to be allowed outside only when leashed. I kid thee not.

Let me give you an example:

( behold, the multi-mammalian extravaganza! )