Meow, dad’s friend gave me this mini-cushion to relax on. Sniff, sniff, hum. Not so bad, yet he has a zipper on the back. If I curl on him as mom expects, something might be closed within. So he is yours, dad, why don’t you replace him with the towel turtle whom you hold on the sofa instead of me in summer? Mom saw the latter’s soul in 乙戸沼 the other day, finding him not a tortoise.
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