I am a streak of cinnamon across the living room. Because of my color, people always think I’m a fox cub, and I use that to my advantage. I move with a light, bouncy spring - my paws barely kiss the floor. I am tiny, yes, but I carry myself with the poise of a wolf. I don't just "exist" in a space; I curate it. If the pillows aren't arranged to my liking for a nap, I will dig and circle until the "nest" is perfect.

I have a lot to say, and I refuse to be ignored. When I want your attention, I don't give a common bark. I start with a low, vibrating murmur in my chest that climbs into a melodic "woo-woo-woo!" *

The Argument: If you tell me "no," I will talk back. I’ll tilt my head, look you dead in the eye with my piercing gaze, and give you a verbal list of all the reasons why I should actually have that piece of chicken 🍗