I walked into the main room, and - at the far end - saw what looked like a fly.
I crouched low and inched towards it, my catty senses tuned in.
I stared at it, to work out the best angle to approach it from.
My whiskers switched.
My tail swished.
The fly didn't move.
I slowly crept towards it, coming from its right.
I stared, and stared, and stared.
I started to swish my tail quicker.
I got closer.
I did a little pre-pounce bum wiggle, and...
...pounced!
...but it didn't even try to fly off.
I stop clawing and bunny kicking... and realised that it was a raisin that had been left on the floor, not a fly.
I bit it anyway.
Then I went and had another nap.
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