The peach-furred Maine Coon stood up so rapidly it was almost as if an EF5 tornado had rippled across the room. Lavender was her name, and chosen when her owner found her sleeping in a bed of lavender and weeds. Lavender felt lucky, partially that she wasn't named Weed, which her owner could have easily chosen. From that day, she was never immersed in a sheet of lavender ever again, no, not because her owner stopped planting lavender, but rather the birth of her lavish lifestyle. Soon this cat forgot about forging friendships and finding true love she had hopelessly fantasized as a street kitty. She flipped onto her plush bed of diamond trimming and ate wet food with a price tag so large your eyes would unhinge from their sockets if you saw it. Why be engaged in trivial matters such as love or friendship, when you could sip fresh hot milk and try on the latest Tahiti Lux sunglasses? Lavender saw her life through polarized lenses, filtering out the pesky blots of sunlight which constantly blind, and replacing them with a beautiful almond shade. Lavender therefore forgot all her insecurities and felt like a goddess. Oh, how awful she would react when she came face to face with the real world. A calamity indeed, but nobody would be around to help her. She would realize what her arrogant lifestyle had done to her goodness.