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Anonymous
My dad and his brother used to have an adopted feral cat back when they were kids. It used to follow them to this island near here, where they and their dad would go to steal gull eggs (this was after the war, hen eggs weren't available except to bourgeois fucks). They'd use a rowboat, and the cat would swim after them; apparently he preferred being in control when he'd hit the water rather than get all scared on a rowboat.
Kind of says that the "cats hate water" thing is just a matter of preference or perhaps powerfully learned behaviour.
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