Feed me tuna

Tuna is life

4 years old, with a tendency to jump on the bedroom handle at 5am every morning because If I'm not sleeping, nobody else deserves to. I enjoy sneaky walks to the fridge, parkouring off the forbidden kitchen counters and occassionally regurgitating my meals on the carpet (NEVER ON THE WOODEN FLOOR,) after inhaling them in 3 seconds tops.

I'm a fan of randomly howling between the hours of 2 and 4 in the morning and peeing on my favourite couch cushion regardless of how many times it has been professionally cleaned.

I could probably run a cat toy business by now but I'll always prefer crunching on grasshoppers I've swiped off the balcony and knocking over all things not pinned down while my fat butt tries to catch anything that flies. Not a single piece of soft furniture has been left unscathed by my skillful death paws.

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