My cat was named Susie. We’d take her to the pond, she liked to go swimming. A cat who swam, imagine that. A cat named Suzie no less. I put her in my lap after we shave 'er. She likes to be shaven after a good dip. The local human interest story was a cat story in our locality one day when one local day the story was yes about Sue's back at it, going for a swim.
Reporting I really hit it off, she was fine, I daresay felonious, the reporter upon whom my cat sat for the shave at 11 , cameras on. I daresay it , that is consider it daring to say because I reconsider cliches. Consider them bold now. I was avoiding them, speaking freely, speaking uniquely, creatively, off the path made of so many common tongues. Our uncommon tongues tied then, the lady anchor’s and i's, and she was a lady, a class act, and also our eyes met, cat on our laps between us. I broadcast my lost license, it broad cost me so, at last, the very next night for everyone to see - everyone tuned in after all those swam cat promos, after all, no surprise that.
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