I usually wake up a bit late, around 8:00, so I wanted to get up a bit earlier. I decided to sleep on the couch, assuming Poet would wake me up at 7 or 8. 
Getting my stuff (I already arranged the couch), I went to the living room to find Poet laying down on my blanket. I laid down, and Poet proceeded to curl up at my side. She woke me up at 2:00 in the morning, a bit earlier for my liking. Poet had gotten up to stretch, but before I could get up, she laid next to me again. I woke up a second time when my dad began working with his colleagues on a call. Being bored, I gave Poet some food, got her harness, and went outside with her. It was 5:45-ish in the morning, so no one was out yet. Poet and I explored a bit, finding a rabbit that didn’t seem to care that it was in the middle of a sidewalk. Poet tried to get closer to it, but I picked her up and brought her back to our side of the street. When I put her down, she began to walk towards a short trail near our apartment.Together, we went down the trail, where there was a pond at the end. We eventually walked back home, getting back at around 7:00. I spent the rest of the day mainly playing with Poet, nothing really interesting.
Gilded Cage
A while ago, my family got a rather large cat enclosure
. It slightly resembles a bird cage, with its long bars and lockable doors. We keep it mainly on our balcony, a place Poet loves to nap. Due to certain rules within our neighborhood, she isn’t permitted to walk alone outside. With our three story cat enclosure, however, she can take naps outside and watch the birds fly to and fro. The balcony wall makes it so she can only look outside from the top floor, making it her favorite napping place. Poet also has this tendency to climb the metal bars of the enclosure, both from the inside and outside. The enclosure is a bit taller than I am, which means when Poet climbs to the top, it’s difficult to reach her. It’s easier to get to her when she’s inside. She has her top platform on one side, and she’s climbing the other side. Usually, Poet does this to get our attention or to swat small insects, such 
as the occasional fly or moth. She realizes that the enclosure is a confined space, but she treats it like a privilege, unlike when we first introduced her to it. Upon setting her eyes on it, Poet immediately came up to it, sniffed it, and proceeded to lick herself. We tried to place her instead, and she walked straight out. Eventually, she became used to it, or perhaps she merely tolerates it so she can watch the local wildlife.
Poet Has Arrived
Hello!
This is my website where I’ll be putting pictures of my pet cat, Poet. Aside from being the fuzzy fluff-ball that she is, Poet also enjoys publicity. Here, all comments are welcome, that i
s, unless the almighty Poet has something against them. Feel free to explore, I don’t have an uploading schedule so you may want to check from time to time. Anyways, that’s all I have to say, so see you later!
Days of Fun (Full)
Today was different than other days. I usually wake up a bit late, around 8:00 or so. But I decided to sleep on the couch so Poet would hopefully wake me up a bit earlier. I thought, cats sleep most of the day, so Poet will start to sleep and wake up at around 7. It went well, except for that it didn’t. I got a pillow and a blanket, arranged them so I could get comfortable, then I realized 
I should probably get my glasses and an alarm clock (just in case). I went into my room, got them with no problems whatsoever. I started to make my way back, and huh, Poet was already laying down on my blanket. I nudged her and she got up, stretched, and proceeded to lay down in the same place. Trying my best not to disturb her, I took half of my blanket, she took the other half. Of course, now that I was there, she wanted to move. Perfect, I have the blanket all to myself, I thought, elated. But no, she had to go over to me and plop her furry self on my chest. I tried to move a bit and she settled for sleeping right next to my chest, thankfully not on it. This is all well and good, but I sleep on my side. Turning one way would squish her, turning the other way would cause her to move. I settled for sleeping on my back, even though it would take a while to fall asleep that way. My first waking was at 2:00 in the morning (I looked at my alarm clock). Poet had got up to stretch, but as soon as I began to get up, she curled up near my feet. I fell asleep again, only to wake up three hours later as my dad entered the living room. Working from home, he had calls with his colleagues every day. I noticed Poet was gone, so I got up and went to find her. She was on her scratcher, happily shredding the cardboard to bits. I was really bored at this point. I couldn’t play games in my room because my brother was still asleep, and I couldn’t make breakfast because everyone was either sleeping or too busy to talk about food. So, I gave Poet some food, got her harness, and went outside with her. Being 5:45-ish, there wasn’t anybody outside. Poet lead me across the road as she gave all the birds her death stare. All of a sudden, she got down near the sidewalk and crept forward slowly. I couldn’t see past the cars, so, naturally, I picked her up and moved her to the sidewalk, giving me a good view. Behold, a rabbit. There was a plump rabbit who apparently plopped themselves down in the middle of the sidewalk. Sadly, I left my phone in my room the night before, so I couldn’t take a picture. Poet tried to slowly approach it, but I stopped her. I scooped her up and lead her back to our home. She didn’t like this one bit. Halfway there, she started meowing so I let her down. She immediately began to walk towards a short trail near our apartment. Reluctantly, I followed. We walked for a bit, reaching the pond at the end. Poet sniffed around, dipped her paw in the pond, and started on her way back. We reached the front of our house and I carried her in (she wouldn’t go in on her own). We were gone for over an hour. Now, it was past 7:00 and my mom had woken up. I organized my stuff, ate some breakfast, and started reading. “Stop it!” I heard from behind me. My brother was awake, a little to my disappointment. He said that turning the pages of my book was too loud and that I should go to the living room. I did, but I was greeted by, “Go play with Poet”. The thing about playing with Poet, though, was that you’re the one running around as she takes some choice opportunities to try tripping you. I took Poet, plopped her down in front of her toys (mostly sticks we cleaned), and allowed her to choose. She, obviously, chose a thin stick that used to be long but was snapped in two. I tried it out. To walk with it, I had to be slightly bent over, but it was fine as long as I watched out for my head. I started moving the stick along the floor in an S pattern. She crept toward it and began to chew the end. Great, I thought, she actually wants to play. I ran around, keeping the stick behind me as Poet chased it. I was going to my parents’ room when I noticed Poet wasn’t behind me. I decided to keep going in case I 
just couldn’t see her. As I walked through the doorway, “BAM!” Poet latched onto my sock from around the corner. I didn’t trip, but I was quite shocked. Poet, however, didn’t seem affected. She just passively tapped the stick as if to say, “Keep going, I want to play.” I kept playing with her, making use her little tunnel as a small obstacle. Eventually, the playing descended into her staring at the toy as I moved it around in different ways. I got bored of running around with a stick, so I put it away and put Poet in her enclosure outside. Nothing else really eventful happened, I just played with Poet a lot and lead her on lots of walks. It must’ve been fun for her to be able to order me around. “Meow, do this. Meow, do that.”
Sorry for the long post, got carried away. Also, the pictures in this post are just somewhat related to what I’m explaining. I don’t have any pictures of Poet from today, the ones included are from an earlier date.