Mister Smitty is a jaded smitty.
As is the wont of the nomadic clan (aka the Feline) the Smee has moved to new haunts, namely ‘neath the twiggy boughs of the jade plant ‘neath the Misters’ porch.
There, amidst dappled shade (or mottled light, depending on whether you food dish is half empty, half full, or half full of ants), The Smitty lounges and composes (in his head) the various symphonies, novels, sonnets, and songs for which he will someday no doubt be remembered.
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