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Cat Patrol: Staff writer exposes secret feline world on campus

I can readily admit that I’m only in the Point Weekly because I need the class to graduate. But just because I’m a Media Communications major, doesn’t mean I know the first thing about journalism. Thus, the Point Weekly entrusts me with the really hard hitting, important stories – such as finding and interviewing the wild cats of Loma.

After receiving this assignment, I took it upon myself to really shine in this moment and be a legit reporter. So, at about 9:00 p.m. on a Tuesday, I began my duties as an investigative journalist. Armed only with my DSLR camera, my iPhone, and a desire for the truth, I started my journey at the cross. Despite seeing something dash through the bushes, there were no cats to be found. However, I did discover an offering of crackers waiting on the cement wall for some hungry kitties to come by. I knew I was on the right track.

After being unsuccessful in the woodlands by Nease, the front of Goodwin, and the backyard of Finch, I was getting desperate. In an hour, I had traveled all across that side of campus and was no closer to getting my story. The editor’s Flex apartment wasn’t too far away, so I made my way south to tell her of my failure.

As I was walking around the track and coming up the hill to Flex, something caught my eye. A small, black blob ran across the street. A beautiful, black cat!

There he was just chillin’ like a trapeze artist and walking along the top of the green fence like nobody’s business. He didn’t like the attention and hopped over the fence into the brush. I leaned over. He was staring at me; daring me to jump over the fence. So I did.

He didn’t move. Just stared into my soul. This was my chance. I whipped out all my interview questions: “What’s it like being a cat on campus? What do you think of the new ‘flexible housing model’? Is the dumpster food any good? How has Loma life changed over the years – from your perspective?”

I think I had scared him with all my questions. He began to slowly back away.

“No! No! No! Stay there! I need your photo!” So I snapped one in the dark. My flash lit up the area and his yellow, night-vision eyes.

“Hey! No flash photography!” came a shout from the ultimate frisbee game happening below.

Instead of running away, he just stayed there and posed in all his majestic beauty. He turned his head; I snapped another pic. Then to show his wild side, he hid in the green brush – a natural model (literally).

When I had gotten enough photos, I smiled at him. He didn’t care anymore and was staring off into the distance. I had lost his attention and interest. Something else was more important out there in the great wilds of Loma shrubbery: dinner. Since he could smell that I didn’t have any food (cat or human) on me, I was much less interesting.

I then hopped back over the fence. A rush of success came over me. I had interviewed and photographed the wildest side of Loma besides the bunnies of Young. My first ever journalism assignment was a success.


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