My cat, the lovely little pain in the ass she is, apparently knows what I do when I come home.
Every night at 10:15, I get home and go to my room. I leave the door open so she (my cat) can come in for a while.
At 10:30, I pull out my stash, and my cat meows, gets up from my sofa (yes, I have a sofa in my bedroom), and leaves the room.
I shut the door, put a towel at the bottom crack, and toke toke toke.
At 11:00, she comes to my door, meows, and scratches to have me let her in.
At midnight, I normally end up toking again and she partakes in the joyous sensation with me if I choose to do it. At 12:30 if I smoke, she gets down from the sofa again, walks to my door so I open it for her, eats some food from the bowl in the hallway, and comes back inside to sleep.
I love my cat. She's as much of a stoner as I am.
Every night at 10:15, I get home and go to my room. I leave the door open so she (my cat) can come in for a while.
At 10:30, I pull out my stash, and my cat meows, gets up from my sofa (yes, I have a sofa in my bedroom), and leaves the room.
I shut the door, put a towel at the bottom crack, and toke toke toke.
At 11:00, she comes to my door, meows, and scratches to have me let her in.
At midnight, I normally end up toking again and she partakes in the joyous sensation with me if I choose to do it. At 12:30 if I smoke, she gets down from the sofa again, walks to my door so I open it for her, eats some food from the bowl in the hallway, and comes back inside to sleep.
I love my cat. She's as much of a stoner as I am.