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My morning

This morning the cat dragged my black cashmere sweater out of my room and down the stairs by the sleeve.  It trailed between his legs like roadkill.  I let 'im do it, cuz it was cute. 

Next, I considered how my lenience as a parent had affected my children. 

I marched downstairs. 

On the kitchen floor I found my sweater speckled with dog hair.  The cat, lying next to it, still clutched the sleeve in his mouth.  He was docile as I opened his mouth and removed what was not his, merely lifting his head to watch me as I stood up and walked away. 


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