You know, Franny really gets a bad rap. Not like she doesn’t bring it on herself – she hisses at anyone who’s not me and Greg, she tortures Porter, she scratches on all of my Anthropologie furniture, and she requires special prescription food that’s expensive and hard to come by. But still. She’s been with me for a long time, almost eight years. I even remember a certain someone [coughcoughGREGcoughcough] telling me, “Don’t get a cat, I hate cats, they’re terrible.” And although Porter tends to steal the limelight these days, I still love my Franny Fran.
ode to the forgotten child