Couldn't muster up sufficient disdain if all nine lives depended on it!
You've repeatedly found him in the closed garage, hunched over the wheel of your running Buick.
Sits for hours in fascination while listening to Bob Dole.
Teeth and claw marks all over your now-empty bottles of Prozac.
No longer licks paws clean, but washes them at the sink again and again and again...
Continually scratches on the door to get in... the OVEN door.
Doesn't get Garfield, but laughs like hell at Marmaduke.
Rides in your car with its head out the window.
She's a dues-paid, card-carrying member of the Reform Party.
You realize one day that the urine stains on the carpet actually form the letters N-E-E-D T-H-E-R-A-P-Y.
Has built a shrine to Andrew Lloyd Webber entirely out of empty "9 Lives" cans.
Spends all day in litterbox separating the green chlorophyll granules from the plain white ones.
After years of NPR, Tabby is suddenly a Ditto-Puss.
Sullen and overweight, your sunglass-wearing cat shoots the TV with a .45 Magnum when it sees cartoon depictions of stupid or lazy felines.
Your stereo is missing, and in the corner you find a pawn ticket and 2 kilos of catnip.
Makes an attempt on "First Cat" Sock's life in a pathetic attempt to impress Jodie Foster.
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