Molly’s a real jerk sometimes. Like, I’ll roll over and show her my belly and nuzzle up to her leg and she’ll insist on petting me. Right on the belly. What the hell? Don’t touch my cute fuzzy stomach, I say. Yet here we are. And sometimes she gives me the wrong brand of food. How hard is it to just give me the usual? It’s not like food ever runs out. But she’s a pretty cozy chair most days, so, I’ll let it slide. Also, I mean, yeah, ok. I help her with her witch stuff. But don’t spread that too far, my friends would never let me live that down.