They're not mine.
They think they're mine. Pepper - the little white one on the right - follows me around the house and cries most piteously when he loses me. Most of the time, he's on my lap or laying draped over my shoulders like the most alarming fur stole. Nacho, the handsome boy on the left, likes to grab my hand with his paws when I pet his head and will show no signs of ever wanting to let go. Channeling the Beatles, that kitten is.
And it sure feels like they're mine. No matter how much I tell myself I'm just holding on to them until they find their forever home, I'm so in love with my SPCA foster cats. I'm going to have a broken heart when it's time to bring them to their new home.
But I believe in animal rescue and fostering most passionately, and if there's one thing I've gotten out of this awful summer?
A broken heart's almost always worth it, for the love that came before the breaking.