Cats hate birthdays.

Friday was my birthday. Today was Valentine’s Day. If you’re bad at math, they’re only a few a days apart, which is why I hate my birthday, and consequently the entire month of February–because it’s filled with red and pink crap. I also get double the flowers, which would be fine if my goddamn cats didn’t eat them every time.

I got home Friday and was nearly knocked over so Browning could immediately start grazing.




And, my absolute favorite.


One Reply to “Cats hate birthdays.”

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