![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_th3BTXnRQgp-R6KNw4N9Z3AISHGefQzgseVPp0FtEOKImYYEAy0bC_yJcGITKe9eeYPIDmArjX_ZsG-g9gGLRy2joZMsZ9P22FR8FalUJXc2qpCx3t=s0-d)
You wouldn't think this would be an appealing spot, to stop, and sit... perched on someone who is balancing on a stool, in the middle of a haircut. But
cats, right?
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Mister Foo sauntered across the lawn, right up to Max, then jumped onto his knees for a face to face visit. Then he turned, and kneaded, and settled right into
his spot.
![](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_uj-Oow2bSJNJdb4VSMMKcE6-3QcVULmD1CZswXiU7c1uwWl0eTlJeukUDtDziz8BKg7ow-t9_BkIrokRd3SPMUt7s81jNypEoSbfQjjmVYQtEo0Q=s0-d)
He didn't mind the
snip-snip of the scissors, the falling, cut hair.
Cats.
With
Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.
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