This young lady was lying prone on the floor. While I could see she was still smiling, her dress was tattered and her hair disheveled. Clearly someone was bothering her in the night.
It didn't take long to spot the bastard that trifled with her. From his elevated spot on the coffee table, he was watching her, warning her to keep her mouth shut.
Lorenzo rules over the house after dark. He oversees the movement of underground catnip (which he finds in the drawer and somehow removes and chews through the container) and commands his minions (Fat Linda) to do his bidding. When he's had enough, he comes and sleeps on my head. At times, he will lash out (completely unprovoked) and attack you. Just ask my sister who had her arm mercilessly bitten last summer. The arm ended up going completely numb, which sent her to the doctor and earned me a call from Animal Control (they forced my sister to report the animal who mauled her) and Lorenzo got locked in the clink (actually he was supposed to be quarantined but we let him roam about and bite other people).
It's unfortunate that cats live so long. We likely have another 10 years with Lorenzo and 15 with Fat Linda (unless she has a heart attack from being so fat). We can't get rid of them because we kind of love them, even though we barely like them. So for the next decade, we will have to put up with Lorenzo humping everything and Fat Linda jumping on the kitchen table trying to snatch rice cakes out of Marina's hands. Dang. It's going to be a long 10 years.
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