I got a cat for my oldest daughter when she was seven years old -- a gray and white calico kitten named Betsy. My daughter is now 26 and Betsy is now 100 (in cat years).
My youngest daughter decided she wanted a cat when she was 21. Sadie was just a kitten -- a tabby, full of energy and still is. When my youngest daughter found an apartment that had a no pets policy I took little Sadie in.
Long story short, I am now cat #2's mama and cat #1's grandma-ma. (yes, she is 100 years old and I am her grandma-ma)
How I know I am "this close" to being the crazy cat lady:
Both felines are finicky eaters. Sadie has to have Fancy Feast Turkey and Cheese Delights -- no, not chicken, not beef, not ocean whitefish -- turkey ONLY!
Betsy is on a special (old lady) vet diet -- she can only eat the cat food from the vet but sometimes as a treat I sneak her a little flaked tuna from Nine Lives. She will only eat flaked tuna, not flaked salmon, flaked shrimp -- tuna ONLY!
While I was at the grocery story searching desperately for Fancy Feast Turkey and Cheese Delights and Nine Lives Flaked Tuna to no avail, an older woman sidled up next to me and struck up a conversation. She too, was in search of the only cat food on earth her cats would eat. She was wearing a toboggan -- it was pretty warm outside and the soles of her once hot pink flip flops were worn thin.
"Your cat finicky too, I guess," the woman said, but never lost focus as her eyes darted over the hundreds of cans on the shelf.
"Yeah, I guess they all are," I responded and peeled my glare from the kitty loot just long enough to glance at her.
Crazy Cat Lady, I thought to myself as I judged her with my thoughts because sometimes I'm just a bitch like that. I'm sure she has at least a dozen squirmy felines in her bed every night.
Then I asked the question I wish I hadn't.
"How many cats do you have?" I turned to her and waited for a response.