Domesti...cat...ed?

Pat told me I had become domesticated after nearly three days with poop machines this past weekend. Pffft that isn't this cat's trend. I will prove it without even the need to rhyme because I don't want to confuse any who aren't in their prime. They just have to know that Pat is full of it in tow.

Does this look domesticated to you? I'm tearing this thing apart.

"Yeah. It kinda does. That isn't a real tree. But not as bad as the next one."

"You using the cushy chair of the kids. You're oh so wild."

No one asked for you to be on the blog. Go away.
"Someone still lives in a delusion."

See? There it goes while I eat its snake-like thing.

Here I am listening for any wild calls.

"Please. You were probably listening for them to drop food."
Not talking to you.

Now I really got that snake thing.

I even let you go after that snake thing while it tried to attack us all. I pushed away my fear to get it.
"More like sat there with the kid waiting for food."
Quiet, Cass!