I was nice to the Woman this morning. I didn't jump all over her and stomp circles around her head and across her stomach trying to get her to get up to feed me. I let her sleep, and I curled up on top of her to wait.

For some reason she finds this particularly endearing, and when she wakes up she doesn't groan and tell me it's not time yet; she tells me what a good boy I am (=gag=) and gets up to feed me before she even goes to the giant litterbox.

She thinks I'm being such a good boy; I have method to my madness. There's still some kitty crack shrimp in the kitchen, and I know if I let her sleep, she'll remember that and give me some tonight.

She'll complain about how much it stinks, but I'll get some.

And if she's nice enough to give me a litle more than usual, I will reward her with a great big hairball again. But maybe this time I'll present it to her on the bathroom floor. Or maybe in a shoe, where it can ferment for a little while.

I'm nothing if not considerate.

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