When Mr. Stinky is away Whiskey sleeps in his spot on the bed right beside me. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement because not only does she not get kicked in the course of the night I can reach over anytime I want to pet her, thus earning me loud, rumbling purrs.
This morning when the alarm went off, I shut it off and rolled over to say good morning to her. Ms. Dopeyface looked at me and then let out a big, stinky yawn. As I commented on her mad case of halitosis she demonstrated how much a human's opinion, even the gatekeeper to the big, white box in the kitchen means to the feline race.
She bent over and started licking her lady bits.
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It is uncanny how animals seem to understand what we are saying from time to time.
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