Dear Steve and Addy,
I hope you will understand why I am giving you your keys back. Your cats just didn’t want anything to do with me. After unsuccessfully trying to coax them from their hiding spots, I decided to pour them some of their scientifically formulated dirt-chunk style food, in order to lure them into the open. This was completely ineffective.
I had just set my non-dirt-chunk style lunch on your table when my phone rang. It was you Steve. I swear to God that your cat is seriously fast. I turned my back for literally 8 seconds and when I turned back I found my self on the crappy end of a rather sloppy hostage situation. You see one of your cats, the tiny one, was on the table with its face in my lunch. I was frozen for a moment and then I said, “No kitty, that’s my lunch.” I slowly approached and in a panicked coup de grace she grabbed the remainder of the fajita and ran under your bed. I could not coax her out from under there without risking severe blood loss. She seemed a little bit grouchy, possibly because she was enduring a bout severe gastro-intestinal distress. I think this quite adequately explains the strange odor you noticed.
Good luck finding a new cat-sitter… and carpet.
q.
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