It was another of those nothing-to-write-home-about days. In fact, nothing to write about, period. Bess Anne slept most of the day. The cats were either sprawled out on the tiles or hiding. Betty actually tried to fly up to my arms, wanting to be held. Rhonda somehow got herself outside the pen and in again.
And then it was time to tuck everybody in and turn off the lights.
The end.
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