F Cats

I am officially tired of these stupid animals. Thera, the noisemaker, has decided she has to go into a yowling jag at 2, 4 or 6am. Leela, the hisser, hates the other cats and won’t come inside to eat if the others are there, which means the neighborhood strays say to themselves, Hey food’s in there. Stryker attacks the other two and also destroyed one of my keyboards.

These are the last pets I am going to own. If I didn’t have cables (aka chew toys) everywhere, I’d consider a dog. For a few moments, before I put the idea out of my head.

I hate being this exhausted.

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One thought on “F Cats

  1. My son’s middle name was going to be Stryker.
    Good thing I didn’t name him THAT, my keyboards couldn’t handle catboy angst.

    It’s just like with kids, babe. You want to beat them but people are looking.

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