I really love cats. No I don’t. Grew up on a farm bottle feeding these effers the second they’d get crusties in their eyes while sobbing.
Moral of the story: Don’t get emotionally attached to cats, because they just die. They get sick or sat on by a cow or something.
Just moved into an apartment with some real nice young gals! They’re real squirrely girls who come equipped with a cat. Louie, also know as Lou, and sometimes I catch myself callin’ him “kitty.” This thing is a special breed, obviously he likes to be stroked but I honestly feel like he has a real life personality.
I hear he likes to sit in knapsacks and he also enjoys burying his head in plastic bags. I almost shit my pants while I was moving in- I found him tail-deep in a big ass bag from the bookstore- that’d be real awesome if the new girl got stamped with a homicide because the kit-kat breathe’s one last. Frick.
So I’ma track all my feline goodness on hither. Lettuce sea w-hair these kitty adventures take us.