I'm going to start talking dirty, if it takes that to show: people and animals are not alike, I am taking Little Bit to the Dr. Monday morning, she will be fixed in reproductive failure forevermore; I say, "Oh well", she is devastated—she had her eye on the black cat next door; I put my foot down! And that means tough toenails! She will not meow a syllable to me, but I tell her she will thank me in the end.
I do not know what in blazes makes these female cats think that Mr. Alleycat cares, it is a fiction brought by passionate whispered mews and meows no one else can verify; I tell her it is lies! lies! One swipe with a brush of white paint and the world could see him for the polecat he is! I tell her he will not be back; the yowling has just begun—Little Bit chases her slice of hot dog across and around and round the kitchen instead of enjoying a snack, trying to slim down for Mr. Sophistication (ha-ha), she is skinnier now than when I rescued her from the hard life of a street cat—she wants is to be attractive to the tom across the road ...I won't stand for it and I tell her so! No possibility of misunderstanding exists! Confined to house if necessary—I have cut her off from the cat I call 'Sport Coat' for good reason. She will be forcibly sterilized Monday, damn if it seems Hitleresque...I will not have bad ear-lobe cats or a cat I cannot verify aryan ownership back to the 19th century. Careful? you bet!
I axed this cat to be cool—she ignores me and plays dice all night, night after night, making my life a living hell, waiting for the surgery, she plays dice and just squeaks to me-no meow. Someday she will thank me, I hope.
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