Not that kind of relationship you fool. It’s more that Billie Jean is starting to kind of act like maybe there are times when she is not figuring out how to kill me and still get fed.
BJ often guards the bathroom door while I am in there. Lord
only knows what horrible ogre might attack me without her being a sentinel. I
feel so safe.
This morning I heard Billie Jean in the bathroom, using her litter
box. Trust me, she can smell up the room and the hallway like, well. You know.
I chose to not go too close for a time. I finally came out of my room and there was
a big cat, taking her best St. Bernard pose and asking, “You won’t protect me
because?”
I stood there in surprise while she berated me and said
horrible things about my ancestry. It was an unpleasant conversation.
I walked past her to go to the kitchen. She swatted at me as
I passed.
There were no claws out.
Is that love, or what?
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