There’s this tiny little golden lion roaring at me. He’s telling me something. He thinks I can comprehend what he’s saying. Silly lion doesn’t know I don’t speak “cat”. How am I supposed to tell him? He looks very desperate. It’s a little endearing, but also a little depressing. He’s a tiny lion but he looks amazing with his mane. As if he were destined for greater things.

 

To tell you the truth, I sometimes think I am a cat. Or at least, quite feline-like. Because I’m so vain, and haughty.

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