a.k.a The Cuddlers or The Terrorists.  The choice of label is determined by a mood dependent scale which weighs up and determines how tolerable the two of them are being to each other and us, on a particular day.  Sometimes they cuddle and sometimes they are terrorists.  Mainly the latter which is a pretty accurate description of every cat ever I guess.  Lord knows there is not a sock in this world that is safe from the paws of Zeus.  It is like watching a fast-paced game of ice hockey once he has it in his clutches, and much of groping under couches and curtains, and wheel spinning around the house does ensue.  Goodbye sock, I pray that you find your long-lost friend who succumbed to the washing machine last week and live together happily ever after in your unmatchedness.  And who needs an alarm clock to wake you up in the morning when you have Felix meowing outside your bedroom door to be let in the second that you crack open an eyeball to the new day?  In all seriousness, I am convinced that he is somehow spying on us!  The meowing starts literally as soon as Jon or I blink, let alone get the chance to utter a sleepy good morning to one another.  I mean, how does he even know that we’re awake??

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