There's a lot of talk these days about bullying. Even though I'm a grown-up, I'm bullied on a constant basis.
You're looking at the face of a bully. I'll be sitting at my computer, working away, and then in comes Bonnie and she wants one thing: my chair. Why? I think because it has a cushion. To Bonnie, any cushion belongs to cats. (We do have kitty cushions scattered around the house--so I guess it's not surprising that she thinks this way.)
First she walks in the room, marks the legs of my desk and then she pulls that killer move: she looks at me. With kitty eyes. If that doesn't work, she meows. That meow says, "Get out of my chair. NOW!"
I'm just a helpless human being. I get out of the chair.
My name is Ivy, and I'm bullied by domestic cats.
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