The Daily Life of a Cat Who Courts Death

An accident turned me into a cat. What story lies behind it? After becoming a cat, I began living a very different life. Other than having to face the Ice Cube every moment of the day, life is actually pretty comfortable. A little scene: The chilly villa seemed to have gained a different sort of atmosphere. “Thump-thump, crash, meow!” The cute little head turned to look behind. “Meow, meow, meow!” It seemed to be pleading its case. With beautiful eyes and an innocent gaze, it stared nervously at the owner sitting at the dining table. Long, elegant fingers tapped on the tabletop. The cat's eyes glazed over as it thought, Ah, he's so handsome. I wish those hands would hold me. Then I could die without regrets. The owner's eyes narrowed as he watched the dazed cat, seeming to consider what to do with it. “You...” “Oh no, oh no! I don't want to be kicked out. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!” Meow, meow, meow. The owner looked at the cat, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. He stood and walked toward the scene of the cat's crime. He's coming, he's coming. Is he going to hit me? The owner crouched down and reached out with his long fingers. The cat lowered its head and shut its eyes, waiting for its punishment. “Eh?” It opened its eyes and looked up. The owner couldn't help laughing as he stroked the cat. “Playing acrobat with my things? Think about how you're going to make it up to me, silly cat.” “Meow!” The cat snarled at its owner. “I'm not silly!” “Heh, the silly cat gets mad, too.”