She had lost count. That was the incontrovertible, irrefutable truth. Over the days, months and years, it had happened so many times that trying to keep track above the general term “many” was a futile exercise. There was a precise number, somewhere, but it didn’t matter. This multitude was immense.

And, on this day, it was floofy.

It would seem, for all the pets and the rubs gone by, that there had not been enough. The smol ball of floof meowed and, without mercy, demanded more. As it would again countless more times to come.