The culprit

Currently sleeping very peacefully on the dining room floor, this is Virgil. The cat who missed his litter box last week. He spent a traumatic first year of his life at the local SPCA in a very small cage with another cat. We picked him up on a very snowy day in January, and he has been spoiled (and getting larger) ever since. He loves to jump at doorframes when you tap on them, play between the railing spindles on the staircase, and chase dry leaves around the floor. Other daily activities include rubbing up against my dark clothes for work, sleeping on Adam's bookbag, and sitting on the windowsill in the kitchen. It has been warm weather since we moved into this house, so I don't know what he's going to do when we can't open the window all the time. He's too fat to fit on the sill when the window is closed.

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