Now I know you lost your tail and are terribly, terribly clever to balance on this thin ledge without it, looking like butter wouldn't melt while doubled up and over in concentrated prayer, asking for forgiveness, BUT, if you don't stop urinating on my bed, through the duvet, sheets and underlay, every second day and twice on Sundays, we're going to have a problem. You hear that, Missy? I don't mean to be harsh. I'm sorry. I know it can't be easy. Please forgive me. Can I get you some tuna?
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