Sunday, July 3, 2016

if Maudie could talk between her Sunday naps, she'd say

i like mice. 
i like to kill mice, 
toy mice. 
i like to pretend kill my toy mice. 
i like to tear things apart. 
i like to tear cardboard apart mostly. 
i like to shred it in the night, 
and leave the debri scattered about the rugs. 
i like to wake up very early in the morning. 
i like to meow until my breakfast is served, 
eat precisely half of the bowl, 
then meow until i am pet. 
i like to scratch my scratch post.
i like to jump onto the bed and walk across your chest,
put my face against your face,
and meow until i am pet.  
i like to poop after my breakfast. 
i like to cover it up and then rub my paws on the bathroom walls. 
i like coffee bags. 
i like laying on them, 
biting them, 
digging my nails into them, 
and using them to claw my way around the bottom of the living room table. 
i like balls. 
squishy balls, 
aluminum foil balls,
rubber band balls. 
i like anything that rolls. 
i like strings. 
i like strings tied to feathers,
strings that hang from the bed sheets and the blinds.
i like computer cables, 
and anything that moves back and forth when i swat it with my paws. 
i like naps. 
i like my spot on top of the sofa, 
and my grey knit blanket. 
i like to lay here, unmoved,
to fall in and out of sleep. 
i like to fall in and out of sleep. 
i like…

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