A little about me...
Manny is a menace. He is always hungry. He eats and yells often.
Be more like Manny.

I was lucky enough to find him in his hiding spot in the previous facilities' Red Room with my two best friends, Ryan and Jess, by my side. He was the only boy in the Red Room. And he was HIDING. All the girls were brave and vocal and crazy. And he was just napping in the midst of all that chaos.

We brought him home because we thought he'd bring us peace...
and then...
he just... didn't?

He would attack my feet. All. The. Time.
It was seriously so annoying. I asked everyone what to do about it. No one could make it stop.

But.
I forgave him always. He was just a young boy then who couldn't be himself comfortably.

He encourages me to be myself every day, just like my friends.

His story is my favorite one yet. I picked him because he looked like my childhood cat, who was Gray and a Hemingway Cat. My dad named this cat "Hitchhiker" which is a cool name now, but 6-year-old me really said "nah" and I called him Mr. Kitters.
That cat was a FIGHTER.

I'm an English teacher, so this all really fits my narrative. I'm going to tell you though, this cat is a FIGHTER. He came from the streets, I can just tell.

He drives me insane but he's learning every day how to be a cat. Just like I learn how to be a person every day. He saved my life alongside my two best friends (Ryan and Jess). The girl who taught him how to be a cat is named Barbie. She came from Delaware to be with my family.

Anyways, back to Manny. He was literally the first cat I ever had the benefit of choosing. I hate to say it, but he chose me. He brings an undeniable silliness to my life, despite this stoic portrait I decided to share with you today. He is currently trapezing around my house and rubbing his butt on my WHITE CARPET. It's okay, though. His butt was itchy! I forgive him. He's just a cat.

Moral of the story? Forgive animals and learn to forgive yourself. Life becomes a lot cooler when you do that!

I want the Humane Society to have money because they gave Manny to me for FIVE DOLLARS. Like, that's the cheapest happiness ever. A $5 cat. Just like my childhood cat that my dad knew I HAD to have. I needed a Gray weirdo with big thumbs, because I have obnoxiously large thumbs. And now, I need this formal tuxedo weirdo who loves structure. But I also need his pretty orange sister who loves me unconditionally.

Omg I can't with this WORD COUNT.

I feel like my students right now. This seems like a cosmic punishment. Maybe it's a love letter?

Be PATIENT <3
Be more like Manny. <3
Thanks, Humane Society! <3