Dear Pouncival,
I love you a lot. It's nice to know that when I sleep in or do homework or stay in one place for more than 10 minutes I will have your chubby, fuzzy self keeping me warm. But I really need to trim your nails because this morning you cuddled up to me and started massaging my neck, and I have tiny little scratches all over now. It looks like I was attacked by pixies with invisible swords.
I'm sorry. I know you hate it when I clip your nails. And you'll cry like a baby. But that's another reason I love you.
Dear Etcetera,
You are sleeping on the other sofa on top of my clean, folded clothes. I am really glad I bought new gray work pants, or I might actually care. You kind of blend in, like a little rolled-up tabby-striped fuzzy blanket.
I don't know why you want to sleep on our clothes when we buy you three kitty beds, two kitty trees with perches, and there's even a nice, warm spot for you over here with Pounce and me. I guess you know that if you're sleeping on our clothes, we'll have to be naked and we won't go anywhere naked.
Thanks for showing how much you care.
Love,
Mommy