Max The Cat, And 5- Year-Old Me

I was a lot different when I was five. A LOT different. I didn’t like pop music, pizza, and was ecstatic at the mentions of “pretty dresses”. As for the latter, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one. Since every seven years, we have completely different particles in our body, I’d like to say that I was a completely different person. But I’m not.

I still like fashion, but I also like pizza and listen to pop music at times. I had a bigger imagination when I was 5. How much would I give for it to be that big and vast again? I guess that there is nothing anybody can do about that. It is just the development of the brain.

And then when you grow up, holidays become less exciting. 😦

I remember getting so excited about Christmas presents, but now I’m not that excited about them anymore. To me what counts is seeing family, and how fun it is to wrap the presents.

Max

When I was five, I got my first cat, Max. It was just before Halloween of 2007, and the people at the pet shop didn’t want him to be abused, because apparently people aren’t so nice to black cats around Halloween.

We looked at Max for awhile. He was five months old. My mom picked me up from where I had went after seeing the cat. I got in the backseat of the car, and I heard from the front seat incessant meowing. I had no idea what it was. I couldn’t imagine that it would be a cat. My mom asked me to guess what it was, and I guessed that it was some sort of machine that went “meow”. But it was a cat (Duh!). It was Max, the cat we had looked at at the pet shop. I started making toys for him when we got home. Being a five-year-old, I wasn’t exactly gentle with Max, but I loved him very much nonetheless.

We moved when I was 9. Max decided to pack his bags and settle down in our landlord’s house. I still go to visit Max. He visits me too. For example he came into our backyard this afternoon. He let me pet him. When I see him, I meow, and he meows back. Then, we go on meowing and meowing back and forth until one of us stops, and that’s usually me.

 

 

Advertisements

One thought on “Max The Cat, And 5- Year-Old Me

Comments are closed.