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I’m back to being chopped liver to my cats.
When I was sick, my cats looked after me. They overtly followed me and sat on my bed, purring and guarding me. I finally recovered enough from surgery that the cats are back to being catty. No more early morning extended pets for me — oh no. One quick purr and lick. I hear them saying, “Get up, you’re fine; where is our food?” No more following me around. They are back to–maybe — just appearing out of thin air somewhere in the room where we are. They happen to be in the same room unless we try to write, then they are deliberately blocking progress. Yesterday, somebody stole a piece of my chicken right from under my nose. I’m happy they see me as better, so I see myself as better.
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