Fezzik In Paris

Two Americans, three cats, and too many places named "de Gaulle"

While feeding a pigeon that visits our balcony, the baguette in the Purrito’s hand was intercepted by one of the cats.

After we looked at one another and said “no, he wouldn’t,” she held the baguette still, and the furry little bastard did.

Now I know who is responsible for gnawing on the bread when I make the mistake of leaving it on the table.

Bread-munching bastard.

Bread-munching bastard.

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