Hey, I'm Buddy. I'm a cat, as you may have gathered from the title. Suspend your disbelief for a moment and accept that you're reading a furry creature's thoughts.
My people found me in their garage one day hanging out. Most people would be like, "Hey, there's a strange cat in our garage. Let's call Animal Control." My people put out a food dish instead, so I stuck with them, patrolling their yard for intruders and snacking on their food. I let them pet me, of course.
Then one day I cut myself on something in the garage, big cut at the base of my tail that looked like I tried to skin myself. No big deal; I'm an outdoor cat and we're tough. But my people caught me and loaded me up and took me to someone they called "the vet", who stuck me a few times and stitched up my tail. But then the vet said, "Keep him indoors for at least three-four days," and that's how I became an indoor cat.
Indoors is warm, but it comes with five other cats. I'll sit near them sometimes, but I'm not an overly emotional guy. The big cat likes to chase me around, but I set him straight, and now he respects my need for space.
It's nice living with my people. I still go outside sometimes, usually by making a break for it through the basement door before they can catch me. It's important that I guard the yard from miscreants, because my people don't know how to. It's up to me to take care of them.
Gotta go now. It's petting time.
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