You can see her eyes set on her target. Unwavering. Her brain calculating the jump. Legs preparing for it, adjusting milimetrically to make it better this time.
Her tail vibrates slightly. It’s the third time she tries it, but she doesn’t give up. It just doesn’t seem to be part of her vocabulary. It’s slightly higher than her average jump, but she doesn’t ever doubt it. She knows she can make the jump.
And of course she makes it. She ALWAYS makes it.
This is Lola. A wild animal living under the slightly innacurate name of “house pet”. A wild panther the size of a small dog, showered in multiple colors of fur. She climbs trees, runs whole fields in a couple of excited jumps, chases butterflies, hides among the bushes and rolls on dirt when she’s in the countryside.
But as we’re here, in the city, she scratches, climbs and jumps on top of everything within the confines of the study I call home. She might, in fact, if she could talk, preffer to call it her own personal jungle.
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