So for the last 4 months I have been whining about how naughty my cat, Arnie is. I've been telling everyone about all of the things he just HAS to get into. I've been moaning about sleepless nights from being pounced on at regular intervals, about how anything large or small on the kitchen counter is ceremoniously thwacked onto the floor by morning, about how my shins and arms and fingers are scarred for life...
In short, I have warned anyone who is thinking about getting a cat to think long and hard before making the decision.
Today, Jeannine, who has heard my lamentations ad nauseum, came to work with a two inch scratch on her face and her glasses broken. She went out two days ago and got two kittens. Cute, cuddly, purring little balls of murdurous hell.
Can't say I didn't warn her!
1 comment:
you know what cures those kitty issues?
that's right, vodka
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