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אוי דײַן טאַטע איז רײַך און דײַן מאַמע אַ שיינע
When he was a tiny kitten, the runt of the litter, a soot-sprite handful of black fluff with innumerable claws, Autolycus crept onto my shoulder and nestled under my hair.
Seven years later, he sees no reason to change his favorite perch.
Seven years later, he sees no reason to change his favorite perch.
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At certain angles, it's like acquiring a sentient hat.