I get angry whenever I hear this story, dog lovers tell my mamma.

A man took in a bedraggled and hungry dog, bathed him, fed him and gave him a home. The dog thought in wonder 'He must be what we call God'.

Then the man brought home a dirty, hungry waif of a cat, cleaned him up, gave him food, and of course a home. The cat thought in wonder, 'I must be what we call God'.

This is always followed by a big guffaw. But of course my mamma hotly denies it. She loves me, you see. She loves to watch me trying to chase and catch shadows. I amuse her when I run after a crow and the crow always flies off.

I kind of love her too.She does irritate me sometimes when she says, 'Kitty you can't sleep on my dining chair'. And I love to sleep there. My fur is so soft that she runs her hand along it. I love it when she gently scratches my ears. I have heard my mamma tell her friends, "I love cats. In my next birth I want to be born as a cat. They live life on their own terms".

She really gets angry with me when i dash through the living room upsetting the curios. And she does not like me to mess with her knitting.

Should I say more?.