One of the things I hate about surgery for the cats, is pulling up the food at night. Right now, we’ve got thirty-five cats who honestly believe they’re going to starve to death and they keep reminding me of this fact. I can’t safely walk down the hallway, cats zigzag in front of me.
I will be at the vet’s office by eight, carrier in hand. And when I walk out the door here, Brian will be feeding pussycats.
Because we don’t want them to starve to death, you know.
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