I really want to be Miss Diana's dog.

But Miss Diana said she liked cats, and I cried.

I know why I cry because I'm neither a dog nor a cat. Because I'm actually a mouse.

I never expected Miss Diana to like me. I understand that everyone likes cute dog or cat, who is a genius for making money. No one likes a wet and sick mouse.

But I still asked Miss Diana, "can I be your dog?"

I know I'm not destined to be a dog. But if she likes dogs, I can always look at her, even if she always holds a dog in her arms.

But she said she liked cats.

She is still looking at me and making me happy because the cat hasn't appeared yet. Only my mouse creeps out of the hole every day and looks at her from a distance.

When her favorite cat comes, I should roll back to my hole.

But I still like her very much. Can she look at me more when I'm still with her?

Miss Diana said that she would spend the next Christmas eve with everyone. I don't know who you mean. I hope this collection can swallow me once.



Cat is still afraid of Miss Diana.

I'll go and get the cat she loves.

If I'm not careful, I'll die.

At that time, Miss Diana would probably pack up my body and throw it outside the door.

Then I'll be a bag of rat strips, hee hee.

I hope she can throw me closer, because I still like her. I'll always like it.



My soul looked inside through the window. The bell was ringing gently. Miss Diana leaned lazily on the sofa, and the orange cat who performed very docile sat on her shoulder. The fire from the fireplace shone on her face, and my frozen heart was slightly hot in the wind.