Meowr

I have two cats. I named them Harvey and Walter. When I chose those names, I didn't realize I had a cousin Harvey whose father's name was Walter. I just chose them because they were awesome old man names.
(Harvey is currently lying on top of Walter. I'm not exaggerating. He is lying horizontally on top of him. I'm actually quite worried about this since he weighs a staggering 13 pounds (he's not even 1 year old) and Walter weighs probably 6 pounds soaking wet. I'll keep you updated on the situation.)
Anyway, so yeah. Cats. They're pretty good to have, I reckon. They'll curl up with you when you're watching your fourth straight episode of Law and Order SVU. They'll lick your eyelids at 5:15 am because hey, it's time to get up already, you lazy ass. They'll preen and groom each other and you will wonder what kind of wonderful world we would live in if humans treated each other with that level of care. And they will wrestle with each other, occasionally doing stunts that are all too reminiscent of Keanu Reeve's mid-air attacks in The Matrix.
(Walter has become fed up with the extra poundage lying on top of him and has maneuvered his way out of the body hold. I don't think Harvey even noticed.)
But you know...cats can also suck. They can contract UTIs and pee on your bed, in your bathroom sink, in a stray cardboard box, on your bathroom floor, in their cat carrier, and in your bathtub all in a matter of 45 seconds (2 drops in each location). At first you might be annoyed by this seeing as how washing a comforter every night of your life isn't the most relaxing chore. But then you will realize that maybe you shouldn't get pissed every time you come home to your apartment and find a yellow puddle in the middle of your pillow. Because your kitties are sick. And they're probably either in pain or very uncomfortable. And you should go and hug them.
In conclusion, cats are fun. Urine-filled, but fun.