But it turns out I bloody well am.
DP is a cat person and has twice managed to break me down into eventually getting a cat. Our first stole my heart and then deserted us to live with a lady down the road from our old house when DC1 was born. After much effort to try and settle him back with us we gave in and agreed that he should stay where he was happy. Luckily the lady is lovely enough to keep in touch now we've moved and let us know how he's doing but I still miss him like mad.
I vowed never again and stuck to my guns for years until last summer. I agreed we could get a cat but only if said cat matched my exact requirements. All the requirements did have good reason, but I never in a million years thought he would manage to find one that met all of them. It took him two weeks. We adopted her last July. She is amazing with the kids, she is absolutely bloody beautiful, she fits right in to our little family and she is most definitely my cat. I love her nearly as much as the kids.
Have I been in denial my whole life about being a cat person or are these cats just my furry little soulmates?