Tag: cats
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in a state
We have three cats. The oldest one, Boo, is about 16 years old and couldn’t give much of a shit about what’s going on around her if it doesn’t involved a warm, comfortable place to sleep or, occasionally, food. The one in the middle, Scooter, is six or seven and, just like his age, he’s Read.
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to the bone
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Boo bump
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solid six
Boo let me know it was time to get up and feed her by jumping on my bladder, walking across my stomach and clawing at the box spring after jumping to the floor as noisily as a five-pound cat can. It was quarter to four in the morning. So I got up and fed her, Read.
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nuggets
I was cleaning out the litter boxes yesterday morning and dug up five or six little turd nuggets strung together on a long hair like they were pearls. I wanted to applaud. Read.
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Scooter cuddles
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butt pat
I am Scooter’s butt-patter. He is the kind of cat who demands that I show affection toward him by patting his butt. Spanking it, really. Some cats like this, I guess. I’m not into it, but I seem to be the one in our little family he prefers to get a spanking from. He cuddles Read.
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escaped
A white cat jumped out from behind one of the trash cans when we pulled into the driveway of Our Humble O’Bode this evening. My Darling B said something like, “Hey, that cat looks a lot like Scooter!” The cat ran to the front of the house and jumped through an open window into the Read.
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feeder of cats
I can’t walk into the kitchen without two cats following me. Three when Boo is hungry (not so much these days). The other two are always hungry, or at least they’re always interested. If I stop in front of the kitchen cupboard where we keep the kitty kibble (now that’s a lot of alliteration!), they Read.
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sleepy time
We used to let our cats sleep with us, but after we brought Scooter home from the Dane County Humane Society two Christmases ago, we had to lock them out because Scooter wanted to sleep on our heads. I don’t like a cat sleeping on my pillow. Anywhere else but my pillow is okay, but Read.
