I wrote about my cat because I'm a huge dork.

My cat is a thrill seeker.
Can't say I blame him, though. With only the excitement of two floors inside and a two block vicinity outdoors, I'm amazed he doesn't go stir crazy. (Even if he is a cat.)

Mum says he's sneaky. I say he's daring. (Either that or he's bored.) She gets angry when he leaves furballs around the house. I'm still amazed at how his tiny skeleton feels as though it might crack when I pat him. His fur is just as soft and fine to me now as it is when I was seven years old. I love how his coat shines so brilliantly in shades of auburn and black when he sits in the window.

Sneaky? Of course. My cat is a bastard. He picks on the others, and he'll claw your eyes out if you even hold him wrong. But I still love to chase him around the house and hear his little feet pitter-pat on the wood floors. Something about the sparkle in his eyes tells me he loves it, too.
My cat is a thrill seeker.
-fin-

I'm not sure what this is supposed to be, but I wrote it when I was watching my cat dart back and forth from room to room. He's an adorable little runt.

-L-