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telling tales - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
telling tales
There's an empty banker-box still sitting on the floor in my room, spared from the ongoing purges because it's still in good enough shape to be useable. Both cats periodically leap into the box for no apparent reason, besides some evolutionary cue that says "BOX!", and Snip is sitting in the box as I type. This is worthy of recording here because I decided just now to tidy up my desk by tossing some loose bits of paper into the box, and my stubborn little bulldog of a cat merely sat and glared at me as I flipped the scraps, one by one, right into her nose.

Said cat also managed to fall down the side of the washer/dryer stack last night and had to be given a ramp to escape the narrow space beside the unit, which neither of us is thin enough to reach down into that far. She seemed unrepentant afterwards, unlike Weasel, who nearly managed to fall into the washer during the rescue and had to be comforted before taking to her bed in a sulk.

I don't know how we managed to raise such a self-confident little beast, but I'm impressed despite myself.

feeling: amused amused

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