At 3 in the morning I stumbled out of the bedroom and got Napoleon a snack tray: a bowl of kibble and a bowl of water. This morning I fixed him a permanent snack tray.....
Celebrating George's laid off status, we bought whoppers. Fionna got the entire edge of mine.....
Fionna came in and laid on my lap demanding, with the little chin stuck out, I stop reading the paper and scratch. If I fail to act within a minute, the claw will come out and hook my hand. I have to use just the right sized finger to get between the bones in her tiny chin.
Napoleon immediately curls up on my right, never my left. I must scratch between the bones in his chin, the area right before the whiskers and then end with a circular massage of the top of his head.
To think, someone actually suggested my cats are spoiled. How dare they! I am just well trained.
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