Forget it. Trust me, that’s not me. That’s Russell. He claims we’re related but I just don’t see it.
The jerk showed up a couple of months ago, just sort of hanging around and running away like a typical wild’un whenever D. Krauss came outside. Krauss’d watch him flee around the corner and he’d turn and I’d be sitting there cleaning myself or something and he’d flip out, saying “How’d you do that?” Thought I was some kind of magic cat, I guess, which was hilarious until one day, the oaf actually fed Russell!
With MY food!
Guess the idiot thought it was me, although I really can’t see the resemblance.
Now, I can’t get rid of him. D is feeding the clown, get this, twice a day. And you can bet Russell is playing it for all it’s worth, meowing with this real girly voice and rubbing all over D and letting him scratch his neck.
D. keeps asking if we’re brother and sister but, you know, I just don’t see it.