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Page 3
returned to the fence to stare at the print. Within moments the air was soiled by
the unmistakable and revolting stink of cat. It told me that I had become yet another
victim of nature’s very-
“Oh, cats are so clean, they bury their poo.”
No, they’re not, and no, they don’t. They cover it up so that I can’t see it.
This was the latest in a series of these disgusting discoveries, and the second by
this foul method. Was it a coincidence that my garden had become an over-
A single person -
The final dinner party that Danielle and I had attended together between Christmas
and New Year was at the house of one of these people. Several times during that evening,
Mitch (the host) had said, “cats are better than men”. Needless to say, she didn’t
have a bloke. After the meal -
This Ode to Muffin went on for two more glasses of Merlot until something bad happened.
Danielle noticed that I’d drifted off to a pleasant place that I save for such occasions
so she pushed her elbow in to my side. She was right, Mitch needed to be stopped
and I had a duty to the other guests. I focused on the fur-