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April 23, 2007

Dave: Domestic Quarrel

She stared at him.  "You got -- a cat?"

Roger stroked the tabby.  "Yeah."


"I like cats.  They're clean.  They're pretty.  They're independent.  They make a nice noise."

"That's what you have me for," Chrys said, scowling.


"Cats are sneaky, sinister, and often hosts of dark spirits.  A dog --"

He chuckled.  "Dogs bark too much, with our clientele.  Cats --"

The front door of the office jingled.  The cat abruptly turned into a small, furry cloud of teeth and claws, buzzsawing out of Roger's lap to dash behind the file cabinets. 

Chrys raised an eyebrow, politely silent.   Roger reached for the drawer with the iodine.

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