…Laughing so hard I dropped my taco AND spilled my beer!
Like the mouser-cat that must show all trophies before eating them, I drug this in from FaceBook to confirm Joanne’s point about the value in some FB posts (“fast-food”).*
… my first kitty growing up was a near-feral mouser – never allowed in the house – who’d line up every night’s bodies in a neat rown on the doorstep for mom to inspect (the morning horror show) before she dined. Imagine your only pet is one who sinks her claws into your shoulder every time you hug her… explains a lot. *grin*
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Feel free to copy while giving proper attribution: YucaLandia/Surviving Yucatan.