1:10 a.m., in bed, tired of having Sundy, the shorthair, stomp over my pillow, I'm staring at the ceiling, hand on Sutra, the fat fluffy cat who snores, when there's a thump and a ripple passes under the bed. The cats tore outta there. Hm, earthquake, I said to myself. Now maybe I can get to sleep cat-free.
3 comments:
Did they come back that night?
I don't think so. But they double-teamed me again last night. Those orangies!
They're trying to show love. To balance out the times when they're less lovable.
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