A Cat Named Mr. Berg

Since Sophie's passing in July, we have been a petless household. I HATE IT!

I spent the first 31 years of my life with a pet. I've always had a cat. I've also had three dogs, a hamster, a frog, some chameleons and more fish that I can count. With that being said, I'm a pet person. I'm used to having a four legged (or not) companion to look after.

Mr. Berg is adamant that we never have another cat. The poor man, living with Bob nearly put him over the edge. I can't say I blame him, between the constant shedding and the daily cookie tossing, you just always knew where Bob was and where Bob had been.

It is true that Mr. Berg always deemed Sophie as the good kitty, he never actually took to her. He was kind to her, he cared for her, he even patted her head from time to time, but I don't think he would have ever said he loved her. Liked? Probably Felt Affection for? Most Likely. But, I think that's where the line was drawn.

I can understand Mr. Berg's reasoning for never having another cat, but I can't fully accept it.  I just can't retrain my brain. Sorry, Mr. Berg, this girl likes having a cat. I often talk about how I don't need to go out and get another cat, the right cat will find me. It's worked for the past 31 years, it's bound to happen again. Mr. Berg tells me he hopes I'm ready to live inseparate houses. Note: He used to say divorce court, I'm wearing on him right?

A few nights ago I was fussing at Mr. Berg for something minimal and minor... probably underpants on the bathroom floor or failure to make the bed... like I said, minor offenses. Mr. Berg made the joke that he'll be gone someday and my next husband won't do such dumb things.

I paused for a few minutes, considering what he just said. Knowing full well that 1. He was joking 2. He wanted me to to say something like "Oh honey, I love you and 3. He wasn't going to see what I was about to say coming.

"You know what Honey? When you die, I'm not getting another husband."

"You're not, " he said soundly rather smug.

"Nope..... I don't need another husband. You're the love of my life."

"That's nice to hear" he smiled, thinking about how wonderful he is.

(this is where the bomb gets dropped)

"No, I definitely won't be getting another husband.... What I will get is another cat! (I paused for added effect!) A cat named Mr. Berg. (again, pausing to let that sink in good and deep0..... I'm going to get another cat and I'm going to let him sleep on your side of the bed. He can sniff all your stuff when you're gone."


The shocked expression on Mr. Berg's face was so priceless, at least to me.
You could see the wheels turning in his head. The stream of questions swirling in his brain was audible without him saying a word: "Would she really do that? She'd get a cat? She'd name it Mr. Berg?! What am I doing to do about this? I can't do a damn thing, I'll be dead!"

I saw in bed, a grin of satisfaction planted smugly on my face.

I'm pretty sure that while I was sleeping like a baby that night, Mr. Berg didn't sleep a wink. He was to busy twitching about the imaginary cat hair that would be gracing his pillow case, should he check out early.