The filthy beast was jettisoned from my life a week ago, but I still bear the physical and mental scars. Horrible! Next Christmas I hope he's discovered the wonderful world of laziness, a skill I thought cats were born with. I dread the thought of another holiday of that furry terror going behind the TV, charging the doors at full speed, climbing the walls, attacking people, trying to eat my cookies, etc.
Note: this is an eight month old cat, but he's already ten pounds and huge. Next year he'll be twice that. I dread Christmas.
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