Life is horrible. I'm living off garbage that rich New Yorkers have disposed of. Why me?
Mother is scared any of us, even Fluff, could get lost and curl up on the corner of 5th Street and die, in front of the population of New York.
Things could be rse, or better.
Mother has started standing in the middle of the road with us by her side while she sticks her thumb up, hoping to go out of town. Or maybe out of the country. What about my friends? What about my house, what about everything? Will the driver be allergic to cats, like Fluff?
Does Mother even know I'm here?
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