Its that time of year that as the weather warms and the birds return from their winer roosts that my mornings are puncutured by Lucy doing her hardest to converse with the returning population
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Then what's Kappa's excuse? We're too far North for the birds to be coming back yet, and she was yelling her head off this morning before I wanted to wake up.
The phrase "birds return from their winer roosts" gives me a really funny mental image. Like, they drag themselves, hung over, from nests, knocking wine bottles out as they go.
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