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  • I am born in the Year of the Cat. In some ways, I feel cat-like. I enjoy the company of people who can fix fine dishes, I love a comfy bed with flannel sheets or a couch in the sunshine, and I am easily intrigued.

    But when I am in the presence of an actual cat I feel more like a dog, staring adoringly into their eyes. 'Whatever you say, cat master. Sure, take my side of the bed, cat master'.

    Or, when Carlotta comes to visit, more like a human hot water bottle.

    I remember being 10 years old and feeling overjoyed when my Dad's old cat Alix would come and sit on my chest as I lay in bed. She would purr and drool on me – I tried to keep still so she wouldn't leave.

    I don't mind their needle-sharp claws as they knead my skin or their sandpaper tongue when they lick my arm. Nothing compares to a conversation with a cat.
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