Let’s get an animal, they said…


So you have reached a point in your life where you think you are qualified to be in charge, be in control, of another living thing, but you also lack the commitment to be in a relationship long enough to have children sooo you figure “stuff it, I’ll get a cat.” And because you want said cat to love me like it’s own mother it should be a kitten, fresh-from-the-factory old kitten, just old enough to stand but not old enough to walk without that cute little drunken wobble. The wobble you usually see on a girls night out, when the girls wear those heels of satan, had one too many jagger shots and they catch those speeds wobbles, that make it look like their ankles are made of jello.

Anyway, so you get a kitten. Cute as shit little kitten with a cute as shit little name, like Mr Fuzzles…

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