That cone must be the itchiest bitch. Gypsy, who until now never wanted to be on the same piece of furniture as a human, is on the couch with me now, headbutting me so I will give her more neck scratches.
“Doing the crossword? Please stop that and scratch me.”
“Reading the Internet, are you? NO. SCRATCH ME.”
“Applying for jobs? I don’t think so. SCRATCH ME. OH GOD SCRATCH ME.”
“Posting to Tumblr? Bitch, please. Like THAT’S important.”