Your friend who knows you love cats has a small kitten that would be perfect for you. She calls and tells you all about this kitten. You are young and stupid and don't have children (yet) so you think it might be a good idea to have this little pet. You and your husband have been thinking about having children and you think it would be good "practice" (your husband's word) to maybe have a pet to, you know, see if you are cut out to be parents. Of course this would be a good test, you think. You ask your friend on the phone what color the cat is because (remember, you are young and stupid) the color of the cat is of utmost importance. "Uh, why?" says your friend. You tell her that you like to wear black a lot, and your husband's favorite chair is black, and, well, to be frank you are worried about shedding. If the cat is black, maybe the fur would blend in? Your friend laughs (your friend is old and smart) and your friend tells you, sincerely, that this beautiful long-haired kitten absolutely (she emphasize the word "absolutely") does not shed (what a relief) and even if she does (but remember: she doesn't), the little kitten would be perfect because she is, in fact, a black cat.
Now seven years have passed. You are no longer young (nor are you stupid). You have the beloved black cat. You also (even after the weak attempt at "practice" parenting on a hapless cat) now have two small children. You still favor black pants and black skirts and black shorts and black sweaters. You just pick off the cat fur, because it is everywhere.
You can now recognize a lie when you hear one.
("Meow, Or Variation")