I had a home. It was a good home and I was a good girl. I used my litter tray and I used the scratching post like I was supposed to. I loved my family, but I gave them a little space so they didn't always have to be playing with me or petting me. I had good social skills with people and I even liked the big dog I lived with. So what happened?
I don't understand finances or the economy or unemployment or foreclosures. All I know is that's what caused me to lose my home. Now I'm living in a shelter.
People say I'm a pretty cat and I have an exotic face and striking dark stripes. I'm very playful when I'm happy and especially like string toys. I'm still young -- I just turned two years old this month. It's not the way I wanted to spend my birthday but at least I have a place to stay for now.
Here's a video of me playing. What do you think? Can I go home with you?
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