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Originally posted January 13 2004 at 13:01 under Friends and Moments. 0 Comments. Trackbacks Disabled.
I wish cats could talk. They un-characteristically don’t turn up for breakfast and then reappear several hours later with something of a smug look on their face. Can’t just ask “where have you been?” All you get back is a meow or maybe a purr. The things they’d tell us if they could. “I just wandered down the ginger boy’s down the road. Some night. My head hurts, all that catnip”. Or more probably, “Where’s this breakfast then?”
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