I used to have a very special pet, back home, in my country, Lebanon. She was a very cute cat. My dad gave it to me for my birthday. I named her Gucci because she was as cute as the clothes.
             Gucci was very beautiful. She had white fluffy fur, one blue eye and one green eye, she had a little gray spot on her head and a black spot on her tail, and she had small legs with very cute paws. When my dad gave her to me, she was three months old; he brought her back from one of his business trips to Russia.
             Gucci was a very smart cat; she used to know my timing for every single day. She would wake me up in the morning, a couple of minutes before my alarm clock would sound off, by licking my face. She even knew what time I came home, I noticed this when I used to hear her clawing at the door of my house, with her paw. I remember that I used to get all happy to know that she was waiting for me. Then, when I opened the door, she would jump on me and start licking my hand as If she was trying to tell me that she missed me so much. She also knew what time I went to sleep because she would be waiting for me in my bed.
             Gucci and I would always have great times together. I would take her everywhere I went. One time I took her to the shopping mall in Beirut, I carried her in my purse to every store I went into. In one of the stores she jumped out of my purse and started running around the store. It took one of the workers and I to try and catch her. We finally cornered her in one of the dressing rooms, and she jumped in my purse as if nothing happened. When I would stay at home with her, I remember how we would play with the yarn. I would drag it slowly in front of her and she would just jump at me like crazy to catch it. Then, after she got tired, she would just run to me, sit on my lap and begin biting my hands as if she wanted me to pet her so she can go to sleep. The best thing that I used to like about her is that she wa...