Now I call her a stalker in the loving sense, she was always looking out for me, and keeping me company whilst I ate. sometimes it was annoying, but I really enjoyed the company.
she would sit out there with me most days, often talking to me and asking me dumb questions like "are you cold? would you like some foosh? does the old handsome kitty want some wadder??" asking me questions with such an obvious answer was one thing, but now I'm getting called OLD? now, thats just rude!
regardless, whenever she showed up, I always had to say hello. It was a trade-off really, she would give me food and I would pretend to love her for a short while. But there were some days where she would sit with me and cry...I would sit in her lap those days and let her pet me as much as she wanted...I know what you're thinking, and don't you DARE call me a softie, alright? she was nice and I was only being nice back, that's all. and so what if i actually liked it? there's nothing wrong with wanting to feel loved! if you lived outside twenty-four-seven, you'd want a hug every so often and be told that everything is okay when it CLEARLY is not okay.
my favorite time of year was around winter, where she would shove some blankets inside of an old doghouse along with some fresh water and food for me. I say it was my favorite because every year they would try to get me inside. But after how they acted before, I did not trust it one bit I got my revenge...there was one year they were so desperate to get me inside that my stalker PICKED ME UP AND CARRIED ME INSIDE. she CARELESSLY INVADED MY PERSONAL SPACE!! of course, i was NOT happy about it, and would hiss any time someone sat in there with me by my tiny prison.
but every morning...I would wake up, and my stalker would be there...even if it was to only wish me good morning before running off to school or to pay me a visit before she went to take a nap or something...it always felt nice seeing such a happy smiling face every day...
I hope she is okay...
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an Interview with Sylvester
Short Storyaround my house, there used to be a stray black and white cat we dubbed Sylvester who enjoyed hanging out with our Indoor Outdoor cat, Eddie. he was covered in scars and looked beat half to hell, but once he got to know us, he was such an angel. thi...