A taste of home

Most of the time we keep our window open for some circulation in our lovely studio apartment. The other night I was woken up by an all too familiar sound–a cat fight. 

Growing up I had a cat named Razzy.  Not fond of most dogs (including the ones we had) she found refuge on the roof of our garage.  This is where she would lay in the sun, sleep, and eat her food. Along with that, this is where she would often get into fights with other cats and the occasional possum. It just so happens that her roost was just outside my sister’s and my bedroom window.  It seemed like several times a week we would wake up and be freaked out by a cat fight.  The other night brought back those fond-ish memories.

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