In protest, I assume, one of the three cats that are currently being fed, watered and sheltered from freezing to death in 18°F nights left a rather ripe deposit right out in the open...in the game room, on the tile, below a window that opens to the living room.
"Dammit, the pup dropped a load. I can smell it." I said.
I go to investigate and deal with the source of the odor only to find The Kid happily munching on the still steaming Cat links.
Jibbers Crabst! I'm not kissing that pup for at least an hour.
Now you're not hungry.
You're welcome.
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