A cat. Probably a house cat, like my Salem in the above picture.
He thinks he’s Puss in Boots as you can see by the way he’s posing with that dagger. (Don’t worry, it’s just a letter opener. The only sharp objects I let him play with are his claws).
I don’t talk much unless I have something to say. I like my creature comforts, and I beg for treats just like he does. (Just kidding.) Or am I?
I like to watch the birds in the back yard. Some of them have gotten to know me, a pair of geese and three crows. I go out in the yard now with a chunk of bread in my pocket–I kid you not–because they follow me around expecting a hand out and get disappointed if I’m not carrying one.
As usual I’ve gotten off topic… My brain works like a knotted ball of string. Another way I’m like a cat, because cats play with string.
Yeah, okay, now I’m reaching. 🤭
Darcy Branwyn 
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