Member-only story
I Can’t Understand Cat People
What’s the deal with y’all?
If you pointed a gun at my head and asked me to choose, you could say I’m a dog person.
Even the clan division that I was born into as a part of my African/Ugandan/Buganda/Muganda heritage has a motto that is controversial at the very least but also seems to suggest how much people with my identity love dogs.
But I’m not a dog person. Sure enough, those things are cute and I see why people gravitate towards them but my relationship with them is different.
At home, there is Pete. He was a stray dog that some local kids sold to us. I think they were looking to make some money.
And their timing was perfect. They waited until I was at my parent’s home alone so that they could come and claim that my mother had asked them to sell that puppy to her.
My mother never carries her phone with her, they knew that, so they must have known that if they caught me off guard, there was no way I would verify the validity of their claims and... I mean, how can you say no to this.
