Let me tell you a story of how I brush my teeth.
Every night... And every morning...
Then I move to the other side of the bathroom. I can't walk. I have to shuffle, because where I want to place my feet, there's Meryl.
When I sit, she's there, rubbing and meowing. If I stop petting, she places her paws on my thigh and digs claws in, trying to get her head toward my hands.
Except last night, when I told the Spousal Equivalent this.
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