I can has Panama kitty?

I’m afraid this will have to devolve into a blog about kittens. Last weekend, my host mother’s granddaughter brought home a kitten in a cage. It seemed cruel at first, but I realized they were protecting her from the dog Negra, who needed to take some time to get used to the presence of a new pet in the house. Since Cristal has gotten out of the cage, she has taken to sleeping on my lap when I’m trying to read, nearly following me into the bathroom, and batting at my English classroom posters with her tiny paws. It’s cute, except when her claws dig into my thighs.

(Hiding in yers bathing suits, glaring)

(Sprawled out on the bench, lounging)

I didn’t think I would be a cat person after my first encounter back in elementary school with Scruffy—the cat exiled to my basement who once bit me in the nose—but I can definitely use the companionship.