So, last night, Zimmy goes to bed and I'm downstairs sending my brother an email. My cat turns the corner to go down into the basement and I hear him run down the steps, followed by a very loud squeaking sound. He bolts back up the steps and underneath the kitchen table. I'm thinking, "Oh shit. He's found a mouse." Wrong! It's this fucking
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The mannerisms of a cat are amazing. I probably wouldn't have even known about the bat if Twinky hadn't decided to go after it!
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