Possum enjoys a good catnip cigar:
I've brought him up to be spoiled rotten. He looks gentlemanly; that striped suit and white shirtfront are deceptive. And while it may be more refined for him to lick food from his paw instead of chowing down right from the bowl, it should be his bowl — not one he just stole from another cat. He's rude.
He's also inconsiderate, waking us up in the wee hours for petting and attention. While we both feel honored to be chosen as his personal futon, it's hard to sleep with 12 pounds of purring kitten on top of you. And if we don't keep petting him, for hours and hours, he'll rub his cold, wet nose all over us until we're awake again. He also hogs the bed.
No manners, no morals. And now, cigars. Gambling away his allowance is probably next. I know that military boarding school may be our last chance for straightening him out before he starts cheating at cards and developing a taste for rum. But how can I part with him? Look at this baby face:
Wendy observed his debauchery from a distance, with resignation:
This is how cats looks when they're wishing they could roll their eyes.