I’m Not Sure About the Cat

I’ve noticed certain preconceived notions associated with being a writer. These include activities like reading for hours under a blanket, being an A-class introvert, sipping (not slurping) tea from cups on saucers, or slugging coffee eccentrically all day. Another notion (and Google agrees) is that they own many cats.

While I partake in many of the activities listed above, I wouldn't say I like cats.

While the cat’s fur is innocently sleek, it can send my nose into a frenzy. My nose twitches at the thought of the cat's fur. While its appearance is soft and inviting for some, the mere thought of its dander swirling in the air makes me want to sneeze. As I write this, I can almost feel my throat tighten at the imaginary sensation.

While the cat’s green eyes glisten in the light, the intensity of the gaze holds a sense of danger and unpredictability. Each blink is like a gamble, a risk that the cat may use the opportunity to pounce and unleash its sharp claws. How can this small creature possess so much power, and is its feline grace and agility evident even in its stillness?

While the cat’s purr rumbles with contentment, I can't help but wonder about its true intentions. How it gazes up at me with those slanted eyes and twitching tail only adds to the mystery. Was it simply seeking attention, or did it have ulterior motives? The uncertainty lingers in the air.

While my three-year-old asks frequently for a feline friend, the answer is a firm no.

In case it’s unclear - I’m much more of a dog person.