Sadly enough, seeing Whitey sleeping (again) on the bookshelf, it's official that he is not really my long lost son.
I know this because I wouldn't be able to sleep with my left leg and tail dangling off a seven story cliff. (I am not afraid of heights per se, but I get vertigo.)
I realize the fur, the claws and the tail should have tipped me off before this, but hey, I love the kid anyway.
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