Rub my tummy exactly three times. Then I'll bite you.

Bitch Kitty must be sick and about to die; she's suddenly started showing me affection. Well, technically she's just started showing me her tummy, which I'm assuming is a sign of affection but it's been so long since I've had a working cat that I forget how they operate. In any case, she now tolerates me long enough to roll over on her back in front of me and wait until I take some compromising pictures before she remembers that she actually loathes me and hisses and runs away, leaving me with nothing but a few tawdry photos of the love we briefly shared.

Photos that I would never be bitter and petty enough to post on my blog with some snarky commentary maligning her good name and her aging figure. Because that would just be catty of me.