Why is everyone so crazy about cats?

I really didn’t get it for a very long time.

When I was a teenager, I had a pen pal named Ashley. Yes, those were the days before internet. We wrote letters. A lot of letters. After a while, my parents allowed me to visit her. Ashley lived about 200 km (120 miles) from my hometown. Really far away. Yes, those were the days where I neither had money nor a driver license.

Ashley had two cats, Mickey and Charley. Charley was a bit stupid (sorry) and crazy about Ashley’s father (probably two unrelated facts). Mickey was keener on Ashley. I had nothing against Mickey and Charley, but wasn’t interested either. Mickey used to sleep in Ashley’s room – well, to be more precise – pretended to do so. I remember waking up from a nightmare during my first night. I opened my eyes, was terrified and had difficulties to recognize where I was. What shall I say – it didn’t really help that something was staring at me. Something or somebody was just 2 steps ahead, watching me with green big eyes. No movements, no sounds. I had totally forgotten about the damn cats. I started screaming. Somehow very effective, I may say – the green eyes disappeared immediately! On the downside, Ashley started screaming, but that’s another story.