5. Cleocatra

5

Cleocatra

T he giant with dark hair who smells like chicken most of the time offers me a treat before he follows my human upstairs.

It’s probably been in his pocket all day.

If I weren’t feral for imitation salmon flavor, I’d consider turning up my nose.

Instead, I greedily nibble it out of his hand like I haven’t eaten in minutes.

I like him.

He tells me things like I care, and I guess I sort of do.

I think I’ll call him Dad .

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