Beginning of Essay
The cursed cat. He was grinning at them, that insolent face just grinning and staring, those disgusting whiskers twitching, the disgusting muddy fur, the disgusting hole in his ear. Scampi and Mustard stood at the bottom of the tree, tongues slowly moving in and ....

Middle of Essay
.... Where's the respect?" Scampi circled the tree in a haze of anger, his tiny legs beating furiously on the grass. The beagle could never quite get over a loss. Mustard lay his head on the ground and watched the passage of time on the street while Scampi vented. Soon, Roy the Basset and his owner walked by. Mustard nodded hello. "Who's that?" Roy asked, looking in the tree. "Dunno. New in town." "Which house?" "No house." "Freeloader, hm? Give him one from me." Roy's owner shushed him. Poor guy. Owner was one of those uppity types who had to have everything perfect. Mustard rolled on his belly. They had better catch the thing quick, or the whole ....