A cat. A tabby that's orange striped. It's skinny and walking from the left to the right. It is full grown and weary of me, but not threatening.

I like cats and wished that I could have one. During my childhood, they were my comfort on the farm. I would fall asleep in the barn with more than a dozen cats sleeping next to me during the colder months. During the spring, I would go on kitten hunting expeditions. I would eventually find the hole in the hay where they were born and count them and relish the fact that only I knew where the mother kept them.