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Breakfast Is Not An Option

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You wake up to a small face less than an inch from yours.   The look given is intense.  There are sounds coming from the body attached to the face.   It is not quite a growl but, not a purr either.   You know that sound, however, just like you know what that intense look means.  You are late with breakfast.   Sure it is the weekend and you want to sleep in.  In fact, you had planned on skipping breakfast entirely.  Your roommate has other ideas.  You know by the look being giving you that you have mere seconds to respond before possible detriment comes to you.  So warily, you stroke the head of the body tensing up before you as you now make noises of your own.  Noises to soothe the furry being before you as you attempt to get out of bed without injury to either party.   The furry being is not satisfied but is pacing impatiently as the sounds it emits become louder.    Before a full eruption can occur, you dash for the kitchen, heedless of stubbed toes, as you yank open a cabinet, grab a can and make your way to the can opener.   With mere seconds to spare, you empty the contents into a bowl in the kitchen.   As you watch, your roommate approaches, sniffs and without further ado, commences with dispensing with the bowls contents in moments.   As your companion looks at you, you realize you are hungry as well.  It appears that breakfast is not an option but, a necessity, after all.

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