Lucy is my cat. For those of you who know about her, stay with me, I will try to make this as enjoyable as any blog I tell can be.
My roommate, Kate, has never lived with a cat and it has been an experience so far. She cannot stand my relationship with Lucy. Every time I feed her, I hear a grown from the other room. Kate calls her french names that I will not mention. She once called me at work concerned because Lucy was eating her own hair.
Lucy does not have the full facilities of other cats like her; she is not the smartest cat around. We live in a town home and she will sit on the stairs and I will stand at the bottom of the stairs and throw one of her toys into the dinning room on the first floor. Lucy runs up the rest of the stairs to the second floor, looking for the toy.
Lucy has a beautiful coat, when she is healthy. I know this because every plumber who visits us always compliments it. The most highest regard. It's gray and white, mostly gray with white underneath and a little white spot on her behind. She has beautiful aquamarine eyes.
Well, now it's time for me to feed her, my gourmet rice and tuna combination. It's no wonder Kate moans.
