Smelly shirt

I don't know why but every night when T comes home from work, he takes off his shirt and Heidi-the-mad-cat goes daft over it.  She digs her head into it and rolls about in it in a state of happiness.  Then she sits on it happy as Larry.  Now, if only she could take it to the washing machine, that would be fine.  Hairy clothes are the norm in this household.

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