Status Updates From Poets Square: A Memoir in T...

Embarrassing. Immature whining while her mother has cancer.

Sometimes I wish the author would stay with one topic so I could knew more about the cats. For example, what happened to the cat in labour who was in trouble? The author only rambles on about the sexist, macho men she meets when she comes to rescue the cat, but does nothing about these men. Did she leave without looking after the cat? Does the cat only serve as a purpose to tell stories about sexist individual?

The love story between Sad Boy and his mate is quite sweet.

Later on she buys toys for the stray cats and drapes these toys in the carport, thinking the cats will come there for play. I almost regret buying this book if it’s just about a self-absorbed American nutcase and not about cats at all.

She claims she’s loved cats since childhood, but she doesn’t. She has absolutely no connection to the cat that lived in her parents’ house when she was a child. She just gushes over the cheesy little pictures she uses to decorate her room. When the cat is put down, it’s a sort of scientific event for the brat.

Wow, is this book really about a dim-witted American woman who seriously believes she knows anything about animals, about cats?

Feeling a little too real rn🫩