How many times haven't I delighted my eyes by watching the small fluffy body of Jasmine, my favourite cat! She is always greaceful and beautiful.
Jasmine is apparently a cat like any other cats: her flexible body, her bored gestures when I call her name, her fluffy tail that she keeps upright with pride, slightly moving its tip as a sign of superiority to humans.
My cat is a white amazing creature, with cream and grey spots all over her head and back, looking pretty much like a vivid abstract painting. When I do my homework, she considers I need her help and she sits on the notebooks while I write, or on my schoolbag. She definitely likes school, doesn't she! Or sometimes she falls asleesp on my knees, asking for my attention and for my caressing hand. How can I drive her away when she looks at me with those big tender eyes and with that expression transmitting that nothing is more important and more pleasant than her own presence?
A cat likes to be told how elegant and intelligent she is. She surely knows that already, but she likes me to remind it to her.
