Sunday, June 17, 2012

Can’t read my-- Can’t read my -- no you can’t read my poki face


     Miss Poki wasted no time in training her new masters (The Misters) in the customs to which she had grown accustomed.
     Climbing up on the table (or your chest) and sticking his head in your face means, variously: “I want kisses on my head!” “Give me a forehead bump, yo!” or “Is you got any brains up in there?”
     Opening the fridge door causes Miss Thing (Poki’s nickname’s nickname) to  rush up and see if she can smell her open can of food and utter gentle mewing which can be understood to mean any of the following:        
     “Yo, got some food for me?” “Hey, you know you forgot to feed my ass!” “Aren’t I cute? Don’t you want to reward my cute-acious behavior? ”
      Resisting the siren-song of Poki’s wee peeping, The Misters would respond thusly:
     “Miss Poki, your mommy warned us about your trickery.”
     “Well, she ain’t here. She don’t need to know nothing.  C’mon: it’ll be our little secret!”
      Miss Poki is a tricky smitty!

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