I was out of bread. There were more than twenty of the gatos solos. Then I remembered - we had a few cookies left over. Everybody likes chocolate chip cookies, right? Turns out they do. Turns out they would much prefer, rather than having you toss them to the yard and they have to eat them out of the grass, to take them forcibly from your hand. By the time I got the door closed, quite a few of the coatis had closed in. But the door was closed. We must be safe now. . . .
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