The cats like to torment, I mean visit, me when I am in jail. Okay, okay, I am just gated into the kitchen, and it's my own darn fault. If I could get outta here, I would chase the sweet kitties. I am not sure which one I would chase first -- eeny, meany, miney, mo, catch a Muffin by the toe. Yes, Muffy, definitely The Muffmeister. Mom says that as soon as I learn to behave, I can have more freedom around the house. My mind is willing, but my flesh is weak.
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