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  1. My two littermates have very different personalities, as is evident when it comes to the very important subject of bedtime biscuits. Sunny: I am a happy, confident boy. I know my biscuits will arrive on schedule so I'll just plonk myself down here, rest my head on something comfy (mum!) and look in the general direction of said biscuits: Sophie: My mum says I'm a sensitive and anxious little soul. I am never sure I'm going to get any biscuits (even though they've arrived without fail every night for the last 8 years) so I'm going to lie down as close to the biscuit box as I can with a slightly worried look on my face: Sunny: I really don't have a care in the world, so I'll just relax here for a while with a little smile on my face: Sophie: Maybe mum's forgotten about our biscuits; I'll point at the biscuit box with my nose to give her a little reminder: Sunny: Is it time for biscuits yet? Sophie: Maybe there won't be any biscuits tonight ... maybe Sunny ate them all: Sunny: I love biscuits and biscuits love me! Sophie: Can't you see what a poor, pathetic, STARVING little waif I am (even though I just had my supper 30 minutes ago)? Sunny: Happy days! Life is good! Sophie: Woe is me. This is a tragedy. And before anyone calls the Greyhound Police, let me assure you that bedtime biscuits were duly dispensed and enjoyed. Thanks for looking!
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