I want a cat. I want a lithe, sleek, glossy, self-satisfied mysterious blazing-eyed proud hunter of a housecat. I want to watch it get into mischief in my apartment. I want to tickle its chin and rub its nose. I want to kiss it on the fuzzy wrinkles between its ears and hold it warm and heavy on my lap, purring and rattling and sticking its claws into my leg.
I want a cat. I want a cat. I want a cat.
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