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By: Karen Zhu

The summer I saw that cat, I was immediately attracted to her. Perhaps it was how she moved, graceful and noble. Or perhaps she was that I’d never seen anything like her before. She was a pure white American shorthair cat, with one blue eye and one orange eye. The first time I saw her, she was on the roof of my grandparents’ horse barn. My parents told me to “get it down,” afraid she would do something to the roof. I ushered the cat to come down, while she just stared at me silently. The cat suddenly jumped off, brushing past me. I had noticed that she was quite thin, like she hadn’t eaten in a few days. I felt bad for her but didn’t know how to help. I went to the local grocery store to get some salmon and tried to look for the cat. I found her and put the salmon down, but she didn’t look as if she wanted to eat it. I kept persisting, and she gave in on the fourth day, as she was too hungry. Over time, we started a routine. I would feed her once at 7:00 a.m. and once at 7:00 p.m. Our interaction started to become more frequent, and I started to grow affection for the cat. Two months later, it was nearing end of summer, and I couldn’t bear to say goodbye. I talked to my parents, and they decided I could adopt her if I was responsible for everything. I named her Aphrodite, after the Greek goddess of love and beauty, and that was perhaps my best summer ever.

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