Oh, no, no, no, no, no, Chenna. We cats have to be independent. Rely on ourselves to keep us amused. Or the six possums (two big and four little) in the palm tree. Or avoiding the horrendous teeth of little red ratface. (See, she doesn't even deserve capitals!)
Trouble is when the family get friendly, they usually want something. The other day it was pussy-tossing-at-the-mouse day again. Zam. I got the furry little blighter, and then I ran under the coffee table with it and growled at everyone. They laughed. Can't imagine why. Humans! They have no sense of propriety.
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You remember the adage: "dogs have masters, cats have slaves"? Well, I want my slave back!
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