Resistance Is (Not Always) Futile

The Salesman had ignored the “No Trespassing” sign. I was shy, he was persistent, and the sale was inevitable. Yellow, my mother’s cat, growled like a dog. Blackie, my simple-minded cat, stared blankly at us. She approached the Salesman and batted his legs with her paws in a friendly manner. She then began to climb up his trousers using her sharp claws. The Salesman tried to continue his pitch with Blackie climbing ever upwards. I continued to listen politely. The Salesman abruptly stumbled down the porch steps, and Blackie freed herself. I scratched the cats in all their hard-to-reach places.

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