I doubt a bone will be enough distraction; I'll just put his collar and leash on so I can keep hold of him until we know he'll be alright with the kitten.
( And then, surely enough, twenty minutes later: Donny arrives home, heavy bags all in one hand as a ball of fluff curled up in the crook of his opposite arm.
[Maurice is collared and on a leash, which he seems rather confused about, because usually that means they're going for a walk. It's why he starts to bound for the door at the knock, before Max tells him to sit and stay, which he complies with.]
Where did you even find a litter box?
[As Donny walks through the door.
Max is on the couch, one hand on Maurice's head to help keep him still, even if he can apparently smell the New Thing, judging by the way he's looking at Donny.]
It's m-my um, superpower. Finding stuff for c-cats.
( Setting down the stuff, but his attention is officially entirely on the kitten, little grey and white fluffball that it is, because it make a squeaky mewing sound and trying to climb up his hoody, clawing it's way up and squeaking as it perches on his shoulder. )
Hey. It's okay.
( He's just going to start moving over towards Max and Maurice. )
[Her gaze is flicking between the kitten and Maurice, her hand moving to curl her fingers around his collar just to make sure he can't move too easily.]
( Excuse him, he's too busy grinning as she noses at his neck, making squeaky sounds as she headbutts his jaw, laughing a little at the way her whiskers tickle. )
( A loud mew, and he gives Max a look. Terrible suggestion. ) H-how about uh, Frida? Or Artemisia? G-Georgia?
( Hmm. He's slowly slowly working his way over, before he sits, glancing to Maurice and the little cat digs its claws in as it, too, smells the other things. ) Ow, hey.
[And her eyebrows go up with that ow, though she's mostly focused on Maurice straining against her hold to try to investigate the new creature in their midst.]
Stay.
[He stills a little, but it's pretty clear his curiosity is winning out.]
( Moving slowly so he doesn't jostle the little cat, he holds his hand out to Maurice so he can get the smell off Donny. )
I think uh, t-technically? You're m-meant to keep them um, k-keep them separate.
( But that obviously isn't really feasible in this tiny tiny apartment. Instead, he's scooping the kitten up in his hand, listening to her mew loudly (she's got a good set of lungs) and resting her on his lap. Still away from Maurice, but yes. ) I g-guess I just gotta um, k-keep an eye on 'em.
[Maurice, in all his doggy glory, licks Donny's hand.]
I don't think Maurice would approve of being locked in the bathroom. [Since that's really the only other room in the apartment; she's upgraded since Donny and her found each other, but it's still a studio. If things with the store go well, she might think about finding them a bigger place.]
The biggest concern is him accidentally hurting her.
[Since Maurice isn't inclined to hurt anything on purpose, but he's a lot bigger than a tiny kitten.]
( Man, he's not even sure. He's never actually had a cat before. ) M-make her lots of uh, escape routes? And I'll w-watch her. Right?
( Another little squeak from the cat, and she's all fluffed up and hissing a little as she hops and stomps towards Maurice. And jumps backwards. And forwards again. And batting with her paw. )
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( As if he doesn't have enough company.
And maybe he slightly offered to take more cats if there is a problem rehoming them no problem. )
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[Donny no.]
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( Now he's just being ridiculous )
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[Adonis..............]
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They don't need to be talked to.
[This is the stupidest argument]
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Isn't it meant to be therapeutic?
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I read a lot.
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no, on the list of things he'd never say that doth lie. )
It's cool.
I'll be home in twenty minutes.
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[For the new kitten; she actually doesn't know that much about cats.]
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( And then, surely enough, twenty minutes later: Donny arrives home, heavy bags all in one hand as a ball of fluff curled up in the crook of his opposite arm.
Deal with it, Max. )
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Where did you even find a litter box?
[As Donny walks through the door.
Max is on the couch, one hand on Maurice's head to help keep him still, even if he can apparently smell the New Thing, judging by the way he's looking at Donny.]
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( Setting down the stuff, but his attention is officially entirely on the kitten, little grey and white fluffball that it is, because it make a squeaky mewing sound and trying to climb up his hoody, clawing it's way up and squeaking as it perches on his shoulder. )
Hey. It's okay.
( He's just going to start moving over towards Max and Maurice. )
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Have you thought of a name for her?
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Uh. N-not-- not really.
( Oh my God, cat. ) An art n-name or something.
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Mona Lisa?
[Max pls]
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( A loud mew, and he gives Max a look. Terrible suggestion. ) H-how about uh, Frida? Or Artemisia? G-Georgia?
( Hmm. He's slowly slowly working his way over, before he sits, glancing to Maurice and the little cat digs its claws in as it, too, smells the other things. ) Ow, hey.
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[And her eyebrows go up with that ow, though she's mostly focused on Maurice straining against her hold to try to investigate the new creature in their midst.]
Stay.
[He stills a little, but it's pretty clear his curiosity is winning out.]
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I think uh, t-technically? You're m-meant to keep them um, k-keep them separate.
( But that obviously isn't really feasible in this tiny tiny apartment. Instead, he's scooping the kitten up in his hand, listening to her mew loudly (she's got a good set of lungs) and resting her on his lap. Still away from Maurice, but yes. ) I g-guess I just gotta um, k-keep an eye on 'em.
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I don't think Maurice would approve of being locked in the bathroom. [Since that's really the only other room in the apartment; she's upgraded since Donny and her found each other, but it's still a studio. If things with the store go well, she might think about finding them a bigger place.]
The biggest concern is him accidentally hurting her.
[Since Maurice isn't inclined to hurt anything on purpose, but he's a lot bigger than a tiny kitten.]
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( Man, he's not even sure. He's never actually had a cat before. ) M-make her lots of uh, escape routes? And I'll w-watch her. Right?
( Another little squeak from the cat, and she's all fluffed up and hissing a little as she hops and stomps towards Maurice. And jumps backwards. And forwards again. And batting with her paw. )
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html please
It felt neglected
the most obvious explanation
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