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This is my midterm paper for English.

For as long as I can remember, my clothes have been covered with hair, my hands were covered with scratches, and there was always a piece of fur up my nose to make me sneeze. I am a cat lover, and this is a story about a cat.

Yesterday was a very good day. I had just finished burning a new CD of music when I decided that what I needed was some beef jerky. So, I popped the CD into my Discman and strapped on my sandals. I slipped my headphones on, pressed play, and stepped out into the world, smiling and bobbing my head to the musical stylings of Queen.

I had to go discuss something with my advisor before I left, but that was the work of a moment. Soon I was walking in the sunshine again, confusing my fellow pedestrians by belting out passages from �Bohemian Rhapsody� and refusing no one a smile or a nod of greeting as I went about my way.

While walking, I happened to look to my left and see a handsome ginger tom sitting on his haunches across the street. I bent over and rubbed my fingers together in an attempt to lure him over.

The tom cat stood up and stretched bonelessly, giving a throaty meow while trotting across the asphalt. He butted his head against my protruding knee and I tickled the backs of his ears with my fingertips. He raised his tail and purred as I stroked his back with my palm.

We shared a moment, the cat and I. Neither of us had a care in the world. All that mattered was the momentary joy we each brought to the other. I got to run my hands through his thick silky fur, and he got to be stroked by one experienced in the art of nekodo, an ancient Japanese term I just made up meaning �way of the cat.� We were strangers from the start, but we knew each other since the beginning of time. The cat and I saw each other�s souls and approved of what we saw. When I patted his flank and straightened to leave, I left with the full knowledge that I had supped manna with my spirit brother, and, for one brief moment, I knew the ultimate in contentment and satisfaction.

When I left, I just didn�t think of what had just happened, but merely went my merry old way, singing and smiling, to the bank. All the tellers were busy, so I hummed along with The Ventures and examined the carpet weave for anything of interest. There wasn�t much, but I didn�t care. Today was a good day and everything was wonderful. I soon completed my business, wished the teller to have as delightful a day as I was having, and went across the street to the pharmacy.

Inside of CVS, I learned something. If you�re a large bearded man, you get decidedly odd looks if you skip down the aisles singing, even if you sing quietly! For the second time that day, there was a line. Luckily, though, my CD player�s batteries were still going strong and I maintained my air of perpetual contentment and happiness.

With a bag full of jerky and soda swinging from my hand, I once again emerged into the sunlight, blinking like a subterranean moleman on the surface world for the first time. Down the concrete path I went, sneezing as I passed the spot where sealant was recently sprayed. I noticed up ahead that the line of traffic was swerving around something in the road. Wiping my nose, I figured that the sealant man was working on another spot. I was wrong. I was very very wrong.

I glanced over between the parked cars to see a small furry body lying in the street. I stopped and stared, my bag of goodies hanging forgotten by my side. The music continued to play merrily in my ears, but I wasn�t paying attention. My kindred soul was lying dead in the street and the shock hit me like a thrown brick.

His lower jaw had been ripped away by a passing car. His head was broken and partially flattened by the tires that left only this once magnificent creature�s desiccated body as marks of their passing. A smear of blood, still glistening wetly, trailed from the body like an arterially bright banner unfurled in the soft breeze and carelessly dropped upon the asphalt. A puff of wind ruffled his fur, giving it the illusion that he still breathed. Shuddering, I tore my gaze away. I couldn�t bear to look at him anymore. My instinct was to go into traffic, pick him up, and carry him to the side, where at least his body could have a shred of dignity.

Then some bitch in a BMW with a cell phone twitched her wheel to hit him dead center.

I stared in shock for a long moment before I managed to force myself to turn away and keep walking. I honestly have no memory of crossing campus to my dorm. All I know is that I was in a shocked stupor, and then I was in front of my door, fumbling with my keys. I stumbled in, dropped my things to the floor, and collapsed in my computer chair to record the day�s events.

And then I cried.

I took it to Mr. Wallace today to see if I really needed to do anything to it. He mentioned maybe cutting out my activities in the bank and pharmacy (which I put in to help show what a good day I was having and how totally my day was shot by the cat's death) and putting in a little thing at the end telling what I learned from the experience. I can't do that without detracting from the story. It'd be utter bullshit, number one. Number two, I'm a story teller, not a moral leader. If they can't pick up a moral from the story itself, then they're just going to have to go moralless.

Alpha Psi Omega's first pledge meeting was this even, which went well. I now have a little fuzzy black book that shall stick by my side for the next month or so, as well as a pretty standard little Bic pen.

People in band thought I was already pledging. Cap'n Morgan, Michelle, and I went to the Goodwill in Beckley today. Cap'n got a trenchcoat, Michelle got a trophy, New Kids On the Block tape, skeleton masks, and a lobster, and I got a little plastic army helmet, teeny plastic bat (my bitchstick), and a woolen scarf. So, I went to practice with helm, bitchstick, scarf, and barefooted. Nobody believed I wasn't freezing my ass off, or that I was just carrying that stuff around for the hell of it. Ah, well.

I got 2030 pledge points already. 30 for singing "Sheep Go to Heaven" and "Fishheads," 1000 'for last weekend,' and 1000 for saving my group's asses by noticing something they forgot and cleaning it up. I think I'm the highest scoring pledge so far, which totally goes against Adam's suspicions. He's decided that I'm going to be the next him and will end up losing points like crazy. *shrugs* If I lose 'em, I lose 'em. They don't really count for anything but braggin' rights anyway.

My sandals broke today.

God bless duct tape.

Slainte!

John-Boy