I like my cat.
She isn’t great big and fat like a lot of house cats are (referring to my grandcat,) even though she’s eating every time she turns around. Her former owner said she’s ten years old but she doesn’t seem that old. Especially not when she runs from one end of the house to the other, just to run, or when she fights with a little sock one of the grandchildren left here, or goes beserk over an old New Years Eve hat with glittery fringe.
She’s friendly but not underfoot. She has very soft, clean fur and pretty, innocent eyes.
Her name is Belle. When she’s extra sweet she’s Silver Belle. When she’s silly she’s Tinkerbell. When she’s bad she’s Bel-LEEE! And when she kneads while sitting on my lap she’s STOP IT OR I’LL THROW YOU ON THE FLOOR!