26 December 2013

The Cats Outside



The Hammer, she knows a lot about her world. She may have reason to worry about me sometimes but I never have to worry about her. She is no danger dog. She likes to play it safe.

There is one thing that took her longer than most anything to figure out. Fucking cats. Do you play with them, eat them, chase them? Just what are the furry little fuckers good for?

Guess she never would have figured out cats until my neighbour decided owning four cats had to be four times better than owning just the one in addition to his dogs. Those cats pretty much spend all their time in the yard with the Hammer. The Hammer, by what lessons I am not sure, learned cats only purpose in life is to rule. Rule with iron claws.

When I let my dog out back there is usually at least one of the government-like  fuckers cozied up on the lawn furniture. They look at the Hammer, the Hammer looks at them, wonders why they get to sit on the furniture all fucking day while she cannot, then she gets as far away from the beasts as possible.

Motherfucking cats.

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