The cat did not like rats.
Nor was he a fan of sparrows, mice, or milk.
When it came to food, the cat liked only one kind.
Fish.
Goldfish swimming in the bowl, and trout in the stream.
It mattered not what kind it was.
It could be canned, or fresh.
The finest salmon, or the smelliest tuna.
The cat loved the oily texture, and the way that it settled in his belly.
There was only one problem.
His people thought he liked chicken.
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