As mentioned previously, when kiddo moved to England, the cat came back.
Now, this cat is the size and shape of a speed bump and yet, still manages to eat the last flower off my begonia, poop in the dining room, and knock the clock off the coffee table in under 15 minutes.
So, I wondered why I kept finding him asleep in a pile of Gracie's toys.
Being, basically a dog person, I figured it was some nefarious cat conspiracy along the lines of --
dog. these are my toys now. boohoo for you.
When I found him sleeping in the recliner amid a pile of Gracie's toys, I figured it out.
The conversation went more like this.
Gracie: Cat? Ball? Play ball, cat? Ball.
Gracie: Cat? Rope. Tug of war, cat?
Gracie: Cat? Stuffed duck, cat. Duck, cat?
Gracie: Cat? DuckyEgg, cat. This one squeaks. Cat!
Poor Gracie. I think she needs a little brother.