Yes, my children have four legs each, what's your point?

I have two kids of the feline persuasion. One boy. One girl. They have names, but I just call them boy and girl. They seem to like it. They were born 12 years ago via a surrogate mother. I will always be grateful for her. I could go on and on about how special they are, but I don't want to be one of those braggart parents. Let's just make it short and sweet...they are the best babies in the world and I love them, a lot. I have always had a soft spot for animals. I love them all, regardless of species. I tear up when I see road kill. True story. I cannot view movies with animals in them, even if there is a happy ending. I can't even handle animated characters, especially animated characters. I have only seen part of The Lion King. My wailing caused my removal from the theater. I don't care if Simba isn't real! His daddy died and that is sad. Apparently I also can't handle a person portraying a fictional animated character. My sobbing and shaking seemed to indicate that when I saw Lion King the musical at The Wortham. Why Walt, must baby deer, fish and lion cubs lose their parents? Please don't get me started on Finding Nemo. Some flicks are not even worth an attempt from me. Marley and Me? Nope. War Horse? Surely you jest. Just not gonna happen. I've been known to go to great lengths to help someone find a missing pet. If I see a stray that I'm unable to try and help, I think about it for days. Once a few years ago, I spotted a little pooch wandering around near where I live. It had a collar, but no tags. I scooped her up, took her to a friends house (my children would not have received a guest graciously) fed her, took her picture, and posted it all over the neighborhood. The next morning her elated owners called to claim her. I took their address to return her and discovered that I had basically taken her from in front of their house. In short, I had kidnapped their dog overnight. It was a don't ask, don't tell situation. They didn't ask where I found her, I certainly didn't tell. You will be pleased to know I didn't accept the reward they offered me. But I'm no saint. I will raise my hand and admit to a peccadillo (that's an SAT word). My breath is riddled with the stench of hypocrisy. I eat meat. I love meat. I know...I feel horrible about it, but felt it should be stated. So, if you are ever in the mood for a great steak and want to discuss my love for all creatures over dinner, hit me up.