Pretty plz

So I pretended to have a banner in my hand and went all chanty: “DOWN WITH CATS! ~ DOWN WITH CATS!” (which reminds me of a funny Father Ted sketch). However, the fat cat just looks at me, like I’m unworthy of a proper stare or even a hint of a meow. So I sat on what I could for the time being to get at least a little bit of the seat and I whisper “down wi’ cats, please?” and fat cat isn’t bothered in the bloody slightest, the bee hatch!! Cats know when you mean it and when you don’t. {{{giggle}}} “Move up you not so little git!” and I get a bit more space at last “Thank you”. After all things being equal in this house, maybe? Thing is, I do know my place. For in the window I have a little plaque that reads: [ The cats are in charge, we just live here ] and don’t I know it, especially with my three rescue cats. Now there’s two of them play fighting and rolling around in the middle of the floor, jumping and rolling, jumping and rolling, walking away aloof. then back to stalking, to leap upon t’other and so it goes, as me and fat cat watch on.

Photo by Dennis Perreault on Pexels.com

Cats seem to always know how to occupy their space.

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