The perfect pet

 

The Perfect Pet – By Jen

If I could have any pet in the world, it wouldn’t be a dragon, or a unicorn, or even a talking parrot (although that would be cool). It would be a cat. But not just any cat—the perfect cat.

At least, that’s what I told Bubbles.

Bubbles, my tiny talking hippo, was not impressed.

Bubbles Has Opinions

“You already have a pet,” Bubbles huffed, climbing onto my pillow and crossing his tiny arms.

I looked at him. “You’re not a pet, Bubbles. You’re… Bubbles.”

“Exactly,” he said proudly. “Your amazing tiny hippo best friend. What more do you need?”

I sighed. “Bubbles, my perfect cat would be soft as a cloud. Softer than you.”

Bubbles gasped. “I beg your pardon?! I am extremely soft, thank you very much.”

I patted his tiny head. “You’re soft, but my cat would be the softest in the world.”

Bubbles folded his tiny ears down. “Fine. What else?”

The Cuddliest Cat Ever

“My cat would cuddle me every night before I go to sleep,” I said, smiling at the thought. “She’d curl up right next to me, just the right size. Not too big, not too small.”

Bubbles squinted at me. “So… unlike me?”

“Well… you are the size of a teacup.”

“Exactly,” Bubbles said, standing on my pillow. “I already fit perfectly! You don’t need this cat.”

I sighed. “Bubbles, last night you fell asleep on my forehead.”

Bubbles waved a tiny paw. “Minor details.”

The Nighttime Guardian

“My cat would also protect me from bad dreams,” I continued. “She’d purr super loud and make them go away.”

Bubbles sat up. “Excuse me. I protect you from bad dreams.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Last week, I had a nightmare about a giant banana chasing me, and you hid under the blanket.”

Bubbles coughed. “I was… gathering my strength.”

“Right.”

Bubbles’ Counteroffer

Bubbles sighed dramatically. “Fine. Your cat sounds… okay.”

“More than okay,” I said. “Perfect.”

“Well,” he said, standing up and puffing out his tiny chest, “your perfect cat might be all soft and cuddly, but can she order pizza?”

I blinked. “You can’t order pizza.”

“Not yet.” Bubbles grinned. “But give me a phone and five minutes, and we’ll see.”

I groaned. “That’s not the point!”

Bubbles smirked. “I think it is.”

I laughed, lying back on my bed. “Fine, Bubbles. You win.”

“For now,” he said smugly. Then he flopped onto my pillow again. “But if you do get this perfect cat, she better like pizza.”