09/05/2026
Apparently, I have ONE job at this house… and it’s PETTING.
I stop rubbing one belly = immediate crying and emotional damage.
I stop petting the other = “Oh, you’re done? No worries. I’ll just climb into your lap.”
And the little one that's hard to see in the background is like = “WHO CARES?! LET’S PLAY!!!”
I care for tiny, furry dictators… and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way