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Cats...
...can't live with 'em, can't boot 'em across the room when anybody's looking.
Anyone who has a cat knows that when you have a perfectly clean bowl of water sitting right by the sink (where she's trained you to put it), which is refilled with clean, cool water once a day or more, that the water which is INFINITELY preferable is the three-day-old half-glass of water sitting by the bed with a dead fly floating in it.
Or at least had a dead fly in it. I believe the cat has supplemented her diet with an extra bit of protein. She'll be so bummed to discover I've gotten rid of the half-glass of water she's been jamming her head way down into and drinking from for three days.
Anyone who has a cat knows that when you have a perfectly clean bowl of water sitting right by the sink (where she's trained you to put it), which is refilled with clean, cool water once a day or more, that the water which is INFINITELY preferable is the three-day-old half-glass of water sitting by the bed with a dead fly floating in it.
Or at least had a dead fly in it. I believe the cat has supplemented her diet with an extra bit of protein. She'll be so bummed to discover I've gotten rid of the half-glass of water she's been jamming her head way down into and drinking from for three days.
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You just can't win.
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Cats!
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Now, he's stopped testing to see if there's water in there, and just knocks over any glass he sees.
Argh, cats.
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Worse, if she's in there while I've got my pants around my ankles, that means my body's blocking her off from her "bowl", and she'll start pawing me, trying to get me to move.
That gets old in a hurry.
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