I was born. You’re welcome. My story begins with a situation of miscommunication. My former humans had the audacity to bring home a puppy. Said humans clearly didn’t understand, I hate dogs. They soon came to understand my loathery for the canine species, which unfortunately, did not work in my favor. They described me as, “not getting along the dog” and then, they dumped me into an animal shelter. I was housed in a Petco in Baltimore, Maryland for 4 months. It was quite a bore. Soon I took up the self-appointed position of front door security guard. During my 4 month tenture, I was a celebrity among the volunteers and staff. What can I say? I’m a fluffy feline god. My position was taken from me when my human adopted me. C'est la vie. It started off great. We dwelled in the city, I watched daily commuters from the window. I even saw a hit-and-run, very exciting....except the loud noise. Rude. I digress...The city life was perfect. Until we moved to the suburbs...that was when I first encountered the trash truck. It was a big, green, mean-looking machine. I dislike it to this day. The suburbs may have more animals to watch, but far less commuters and firetrucks to watch. *le sigh* That all being said, the human is tolerable and there is no dog in the picture which is the best part of our arrangement.
At the first sound of dawn, I alert the household of my empty bowl
situation. It really is a terrible sight to see first thing in the
morning. After what the human refer to as “bitching” (I prefer describing
it as requesting with authority), I eat my decadent chicken pâté. I spend
many mornings sleeping in my luxurious bed seated upon a cedar chest. It
is one of my favorite pastimes. My other petit joie de vivre is
overlooking my kingdom from the second floor window. As you can imagine, I
keep a close eye on any dogs passing by my territory. It is preeminent
task to watch them like a hawk. In times of feeling mischevious, I like to
sneak into the forbidden basement to poledance on a carpeted pipe. I may
or may not have been repeatedly told the pipe was not my scratch post. But
I do what I want, despite my human’s wishes. 😈
Your self-appointed Royal Highness,
Diesel