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A poem about Blanc

It’s 5:23 am. I woke up to my cat pawing at my face, meowing at the dark, and puking on my rug. I raised my hand to push him off my bed, but instead, I pet him gently on his head. I finally got up from my bed, Blanc was ecstatic. I got up to take a shower. He followed me down the stairs, but not before he knocked me over. On my one minute walk to the bathroom, Blanc meowed 6 times. This distracted me from actually pouring the water into his bowl, so I just poured it on the floor. On my way out of the shower, I saw him scatter, up my stairs onto my bed. I had laid out a nice black top which was now seemingly all white because Blanc decided that tiny spot where I had laid my top, was where he was going to sit. Even Though there's the whole bed that didn’t stop him from being an a** hole. I love my cat, even though he’s annoying. He sits there when I draw, falls asleep when I play my guitar, meows at me when I cry. It’s weird to think that humans can have such an attachment to their pets like I do with Blanc. Blanc is my little ball of sunshine.






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