While the esteemed daughter was out of town attending a funeral it fell to me to feed her multitude of cats. In supreme command of this division of feline troops is Plume, a Norwegian forest cat. She is white and grey, with a monumental amount of fur. She is a beautiful cat, and unfortunately, she knows this. I arrived to open a can of food, and greeted the cat with a cheery good morning.

“You are three minutes late,” she seemed to snap. “I could have perished. And what is more, your daughter said that I deserve a double portion of food and some extra treats. I am shocked that a man of the cloth was unaware of these directives.”

“I am afraid they did not cover cat theology in seminary” I replied, as I searched for the pop top can of goodness. Plume was not impressed and looked away with

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