“ROAR! Just because you claim that I snore, does not permit you to spike my crab sandwich with molochs!” cried lion of the seaport’s pier.

“HONK! Well, you keep insisting that you are sniffing your saline sprays, but your nose noise proves that is clearly bollocks!” retorted sea’s queen into the lion’s ear. ; )

She was more than his light—like a blazar, she awed as both endearing and enigmatic—like the Sun, she wielded warmthfulness to life—like the stars, she ever guided heartbeats home. ; )

Indeed, Tiggy’s fiery fur contrasted with her newly sugar-coated brrr-der,

But her tasting tassel flickered in sync—a fire-flaught of pink—with each merry blink. ; )

Gigi’s proprioception—a bit askew, possibly due to those crumbs from the you-know-how fond of sharing bread past its date of due—had her bill fumbling a bit, to start, over the scattered seeds, but she eventually cleaned her place—and followed with a return to her nest for sated zees. ; )

“Rats!” exasperated the kitty, who had well-meaningly pawed mum to open the window for a more focused sight of the chirpers and, hence, an easier time into vicarious daydreams of midday mischief.

But, now, the heavens were not fluttering with aves; instead, windy waves had literally uplifted pages of bibliopegy’s progress towards demise amidst the skies.

*Certainly, this fateful fault was souring hopes for an eve of purrs and pets—and would likely be followed by swevens sated with vole-faced vets.*

“Curious,” cogitated cautious clawed-climber, “that windows are not always so much opportunities as much as they are opportunistic.”

“Perhaps, then, future cat-astrophes might be avoided by letting birb-ographies right themselves in a suppressed nest.” mew-sed the malleable now-mouser. ; )