This is the first letter I'm writing to you, and I'm not even sure if it's going to reach you. But cats don't generally have a lot to do during the day except sleep, lick ourselves, eat our fish and sleep again. So writing a letter to a dog who you just met is a distraction that's welcome.
I'll be honest. I'm on the fence about your name. Eddie sounds more like the name of a platypus. But it perhaps makes sense for you – considering you walk just like one. Or at least, you were, when I saw you walking yesterday in the compound. You saw me too, I know. Because the moment you did, you tried to run towards me. Thankfully, you were on a leash. Also, you should know by now, that cats are much faster than dogs, and by the time you get to me, I'll be up a tree. Intelligence, dear Eddie, intelligence.
Anyway, the reason I'm writing to you is because I'm a peace loving cat. It's probably all the fish I keep eating. And I'm writing to extend you an olive branch – just as long as you don't expect me to toss it for you to play catch with. I'm a cat, not a human.
So yeah. I'd like for us to be friends. Not best friends or anything obnoxious like that. We don't have to curl up together (gross) or watch TV together. But it'd be nice to be cordial and civilized. If you think you can bring yourself to do that, instead of tearing at the leash every time you see me, write back. I'll be patiently waiting by the door.
Kidding. I'll probably be napping.