shortly before I quit. She'd sit on my cigs and when I retrieved them, she'd then sit on the ashtray. It was as if she was telling me that "this stuff stinks and *I* am SICK of it!"... {It's always about them- you know} ;-)
I swear that that cat was glaring at me every time I lit one. Creeped me out big-time! :scared:
That was the beginning of the end of my smoking. She is still w/me at (now) age 19 but the cigs are not. All is well that ends well I guess! :-)
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