Now know who owns the jeans in the family

… it’s the cat who manages to drag the black jeans off the laundry rack, so she can sit on them, happily kneading the fabric. I’m looking at you, Miss Thing/Cata Hari (nicknames, not real knicknames). She’s still spying on me while I’m typing on the computer. Her mental voiceover has changed from “WHY?” to “What can I make it do?” and “Why is it staring at that screen?” So, does anyone else find their cats decide to take matters into their own paws and make their own catbed? She has one in a different room, of course.

The Eyes of Reproach

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