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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