Furball yawns in my face.
If it fits, she sits.
She sleeps where she wants, poops all day long.
Curls up in a ball, twitches herself to sleep.
Such a spaz. Runs from everything.
Bolts at the slightest noise.
Such a spaz.
But she rolls around, makes tinny little meows.
Licks my hand.
I can't resist.
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