When I was a young ‘un, ’bout ten or so years ago, I used to want a tiger. Like, really badly. They’re really gorgeous, and fluffy, and they looked friendly in the kids’ magazines. I would dream about letting it sit in my lap when it would be still a cub, and about sitting in ITS lap when it would be a full grown plush throw.
Needless to say, my parents weren’t too supportive of my dreams and wishes. My father said that when I get older, and have an apartment of my own, I could get a cat and paint it to look like a tiger.