Coming Home to Cats

I just had the oddest realization coming into the house. I was gone about forty minutes, getting an emissions test, and Shaz came into the kitchen to see who was coming home. I always think about residences—in my youth, in the dorm, in apartments—as being relatively static. What you leave will be there when you return, baring incident. But the cats are doing whatever. I’m trusting the cats not to break the house. What a bad idea.

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