Queen of the Roost

My foster kitty, Morgan, has arrived. Her owner is an opera singer. In true cat who doesn’t know she’s a cat fashion, Morgan tries to imitate her mother by singing us the most beautiful songs. At 3 am.

She has quickly established herself Queen of Everything. She eats first, poops first, and growls at anyone who dares to approach her (Sean included).

She likes to hang out on the back of the toilet and angrily hiss while I piss (couldn’t resist a rhyme this time..somebody stop me I’m out of control!).

Sean is sporting a few bites in his hand.

Morgan recognizes the real bitch in the house, though, and has not tried anything with me.


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