Mc. Muffin  the Cat

By Caroline Dejong

       I open my eyes and the sun is beaming down on my face. I roll out of my hammock. I get out of my cat-treehouse and walk slowly in the kitchen. I bend down and nibble on my food. Once I full I trot to the window and stare at the birds. Sometimes I to talk to them, when I do I say ‘‘get lost or I’ll eat you.’’ After I’m done talking to the birds, I sit on the couch. My owners walk out of their rooms shortly after and give me pats on the head. I love to snuggle at their feet. But what I don’t like is when they talk to me like a baby, like hello I can hear you perfectly fine. It wasn’t always just me in my house, my brother and mom lived with me too, but they passed away. Either than that I’m the happiest 15-year-old man alive. When there isn’t weird white stuff on the ground, I like to go outside, and hunt for mice. My favorite thing to do is sleep with my favorite owner Caroline. When I sleep with her, I sometimes dream about catnip and then accidentally bite her finger.