After making a dent in the clutter of the hatchback Paul was greeted by the irritable look of a giant cat. Maine Coon was already a large tawny cat breed but under her sister’s spoiling ownership ‘Deborah’ was a blobby circumference of fur that put Garfield to shame. Not modern Garfield, no, the original art style when the comic strip began back when Garfield actually looked like an obese member of the feline family.
Deborah did not relent with the stink eye. Paul noticed an ignored toy next to the barren food and water dishes. How the cat had stayed silent over a several hour drive must have been due to the flabby feline’s long catnaps. Or more like the sleep of the death, Paul considered.
Although that was only two of the four basic animal urges covered. Ignoring the ‘sex’ part from the absence of another cat that just left the ‘waste.’
“She better not have crapped on my blender.”
“My prima donna wouldn’t do that,” Rebecca cooed, eyes only for her monstrous cat. Some of that gooiness in her voice lingered as she tried to sweet talk her sister. “Um, help me lift her cage inside, little sis?”
“You better make sure I get decent grades if I wind up in your class,” Paul said as she hefted one side of the cage.
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