This morning, the house became Mad Max's Thunderdome, with Max (and no, she wasn't named after THAT Max) finding the kitchen chairs her favored point from which to strike, while Scully preferred to hide in the big empty microwave box and entice Max to peek in, so she could leap out at her. The result: almost identical nose scratches. The match was called when the pushy and obnoxious human insisted on putting sting-y peroxide on their noses. Ouch. Each satisfied that they'd kicked the other's furry butt, they then remembered that it was International Nap Straight Through Till Tomorrow Day. What little angels they are when they're unconscious.
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AuthorWriter of horror, sci-fi, other genres. Servant of cats. Multiple cats, who kindly allow me to live here (at least until they figure out how to open Fancy Feast cans themselves). Contact me at: [email protected] Archives
March 2013
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