One day, we were looking around for Chicago and just could not find him. Usually when we can't find him, it means he's somewhere in the garage. Just as I was going to go back into the house, I looked over to the side and a pair of eyes met mine. Chicago jumped from the roof of my car to a spot normally occupied by an ice chest, which had been pulled out for a picnic. This was his sleeping spot for the rest of the week until the ice chest was put back into its place.
One Year Anniversary Project! Chicago: The Book. ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!
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