Rooms in a House

I don’t like cats. That’s not really true. I like cats, but they don’t like me.

Last week, my friend Sara asked me To babysit her cat for two days while she was out of town. Normally, I would have said no, but she was In a jam, so I said okay.

As I said, cats don’t like me. When I got home from work, I couldn’t find her. I was sure she was hiding from me. I looked all over the house.

I started with the Bedrooms, looking in the Closets and under the bed. I looked in the bathroom and even behind the Shower curtain. I went downstairs and searched the Basement. No cat. Next, I looked all over the Living room, checking under the couch and behind the TV. I also looked in the Pantry and then the Laundry room, thinking that the cat must be hiding behind the Washer or Dryer. Still, no cat.

Finally, I looked in the Kitchen. There was the cat. She was sitting on the Counter. Somehow she had Managed to open a box of cookies and there she sat eating them all. When the cat saw me, she started Mewing. I don’t speak the language of cats, but I Could have sworn that she was asking me for some milk!


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