Finding a chick to love, a bird to fill heart’s empty space, out-turns as a call to run an unwinnable race, where MacGuffin’s cherished cherry leaves, at pace, only sourest kisses upon each hopeless face. ; )

“Hullo and thanks, pretty lady, for the friendly pets.”

“You are like the smilest human I have ever mets.”

“If a stray would just make your day and I can stay, let’s.”

“Meow, please accept optative purrs for snuggle-time sets.” ; )

Welcome to the manor, where we do not merely engage in chores and play, but, we—in order to remain a mob no one is able to rob—, as well, pray—for our head scout watched the neighbours’ pharisaism fail and, so, we decided that faith would be our tails’ tale. ; )

Swooping whence avian aristocracy’s alcazar ascends, swiftest knights of the proud label scout their realm; an order defends. ; )

While Sunday’s bad boys doggedly debate merits of team’s squib kick, sunny day’s good boys snifff-ixate time’s most prime petals they will lick. ; )