This is a case of misstaken identity. A WFH hooman in a duplex lives with Pickles, a grey tabby famous for side-eye and a purr rate of zero. During a DoorDash delivery, Pickles slips outside. Hours later, scratch-scratch at the door announces a grey tabby return. This cat is unusually sweet, curls on the couch, and fires up a tiny motor. That isn’t Pickles’ brand, but the hooman blames a life-changing squirrel seminar and welcomes Pickles 2.0.
The next day, the neighbor arrives in a panic asking about Smokey, a friendly grey tabby who purrs at air and dreams of tuna. Eyes drift to the windowsill. The “reformed” Pickles is clearly Smokey, copycat in every sense. Apologies happen, paperwork gets mewved, and Smokey is escorted home after a very thorough surprise sleepover.
An hour later, the real Pickles clomps in leaf-dusted and unimpressed, reclaiming his post as Chief Judge of Everything. Scoreboard: one accidental catnapping, two near-twins, maximum embarrassment, and a renewed respect for microchips, tags, and knowing a cat’s signature scowl. Order restored. Pickles resumes glaring. The hooman resumes laughing.
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