I didn’t understand what I was, or where I was meant to be.
Soon after, my personal assistant and I embarked on a long journey to a distant corner of California, called “the Bay Area.” We drove for many hours, and I saw fantastic and splendid things, like the “Shell station.”
And we were great friends.
(My personal assistant, on the other hand, was somewhat unsatisfactory at this stage, needing a good lecture on spending less money on clothes and books that piled up everywhere, and more money on toys for lovely, precious ME. The cat play structure was purchased shortly thereafter).
Zoe did take liberties at times. However, despite being no more than a fourth of his* size, I could still emerge triumphant.
*Yes, Zoe was a boy cat.
