Her ears perk up and rest, twitching at every noise of the washer changing cycles. Her eyes squint skeptically, as she surveys the room.  To know what she thinks, to know what she feels, how I'd like to be her sometimes just to see what it's like. I wake up in the mornings and hit snooze, just so we can snuggle a bit, her arms stretched out paws kneading into the mattress. She purrs, and makes "happy eyes" and snuggles closer to me. She loves me, and I love her. When I first got her, she was far too young to be separated from her mother, but I knew if she stayed in that bathtub in god awful washington she'd of been eaten alive by all the fleas. The owners weren't "Bad people" exactly, they were just neglectful, and more invested in their new born, pit bull, sugar gliders, and cages and cages of reptiles. I took her home and picked all the fleas off of her it took hours and hours. I fed her from a bottle. Through failed friendships, endless moving about, reducing our household from three to just her and I, we've been through a hell of a lot together. I know it sounds stupid to some but as of now she has proven to be the most reliable friend I've got. Today she is 6, happy birthday D, I know you got at least 6 nice followed by maybe 5 grouchy years left in ya.