To Whom it May Concern (you know who you are) -
I am tired - and quite literally so - of being overlooked and underappreciated. I am not acting catty when I contend that I am maliciously maligned and misunderstood. My patience with this matter is wearing categorically thin and I demand change. The conditions under which I am forced to exist have become unbearable and I am therefore petitioning for living adjustments effective immediately, or yesterday, if possible.
Complaint #1 - Bathroom conditions. I have to go underground, into a dungeon-like space every time I wish to relieve myself. Furthermore, my toilet provides no privacy and sits within inches of Other Cat's bathroom box. Sometimes Other Cat jumps into my cubicle and does the unthinkable. (He is so uncouth.) When my human pours fresh gravel into my non-private private space, I race to be first to access the new, unblemished sand. I'd like to place an order for a new, private toilet above ground level, preferably near a scratching pad with an automatic flushing mechanism.
Complaint #2 - The sun. This yellow dwarf star refuses to cooperate as a team player. He is aloof and anti-social and ignores me without regard to my feelings. Can you imagine such a being? Just yesterday I spent the entire afternoon following Mr. Glint and Glimmer from one room to another. I felt as pathetic as a lost puppy. I was tired and much in need of naps. The energy required to chase sunbeams is no small matter and deserves fair and reasonable compensation.
Complaint #3 - The dog. Need I say more? I am required to share my home with my own mortal enemy. This is even more egregious than Other Cat doing his business in my box. Sharing my personal space with a canine is like claws on a chalkboard. Thankfully, the mutt is easily intimidated by my preeminence and telepathic threats. Even so, my delicate disposition cannot withstand much more of such inhumane conditions.
Complaint #4 - The food. It is cruel to restrict one's access to essential nutrition. Catnip is an established herbal supplement, yet I must beg like a dog for my daily treat. Last week, the humans let my supply run out for two whole days, which equates to more than a week in cat years. The loss of vitamins and minerals probably cost me a couple of lives. As a mature feline, I am confident I have proven myself a responsible nipper and have earned the right to an unlimited supply - and I won't settle for the cheap stuff.
Complaint #5 - Lack of unencumbered naps. There is nothing as irritating as curling up into an irresistible, fuzzy little fur ball desiring nothing more than a short snooze only to have some human appear out of nowhere wanting to pet me and kiss me and tell me how cute I am. I know I am cute. I can't help it; I was born this way. Can't you see I am trying to nap? Please take my feelings and needs into consideration and let sleeping cats lie.
Complaint #6 - My freedom. Doggone it, I am a prisoner in this place. The pooch lets out one irritating bark and she gains access to a secret world I imagine is filled with edible prey and fields of catnip. No matter how much I meow, they refuse to let me explore this forbidden utopia. I do not understand why the humans hope to deny me such treats and pleasures. My best guess is they are jealous of my overall perfection.
I could go on, but I don't want to waste a minute more of any of my nine lives. Alas, it is time for one of my naps and a good stretch. I am certain you will agree with my terms. If you refuse, I will walk on you during the middle of the night, swish my tail in your face and cough up a hairball on the carpet when you have company over for dinner. If you are unable to make the modifications stipulated above, I respectfully request that a new home be found - for the dog.
Supremely and apathetically yours,
The Cat
- Jill Pertler's column appears every Thursday in the Times. She can be reached at pertmn@qwest.net.
I am tired - and quite literally so - of being overlooked and underappreciated. I am not acting catty when I contend that I am maliciously maligned and misunderstood. My patience with this matter is wearing categorically thin and I demand change. The conditions under which I am forced to exist have become unbearable and I am therefore petitioning for living adjustments effective immediately, or yesterday, if possible.
Complaint #1 - Bathroom conditions. I have to go underground, into a dungeon-like space every time I wish to relieve myself. Furthermore, my toilet provides no privacy and sits within inches of Other Cat's bathroom box. Sometimes Other Cat jumps into my cubicle and does the unthinkable. (He is so uncouth.) When my human pours fresh gravel into my non-private private space, I race to be first to access the new, unblemished sand. I'd like to place an order for a new, private toilet above ground level, preferably near a scratching pad with an automatic flushing mechanism.
Complaint #2 - The sun. This yellow dwarf star refuses to cooperate as a team player. He is aloof and anti-social and ignores me without regard to my feelings. Can you imagine such a being? Just yesterday I spent the entire afternoon following Mr. Glint and Glimmer from one room to another. I felt as pathetic as a lost puppy. I was tired and much in need of naps. The energy required to chase sunbeams is no small matter and deserves fair and reasonable compensation.
Complaint #3 - The dog. Need I say more? I am required to share my home with my own mortal enemy. This is even more egregious than Other Cat doing his business in my box. Sharing my personal space with a canine is like claws on a chalkboard. Thankfully, the mutt is easily intimidated by my preeminence and telepathic threats. Even so, my delicate disposition cannot withstand much more of such inhumane conditions.
Complaint #4 - The food. It is cruel to restrict one's access to essential nutrition. Catnip is an established herbal supplement, yet I must beg like a dog for my daily treat. Last week, the humans let my supply run out for two whole days, which equates to more than a week in cat years. The loss of vitamins and minerals probably cost me a couple of lives. As a mature feline, I am confident I have proven myself a responsible nipper and have earned the right to an unlimited supply - and I won't settle for the cheap stuff.
Complaint #5 - Lack of unencumbered naps. There is nothing as irritating as curling up into an irresistible, fuzzy little fur ball desiring nothing more than a short snooze only to have some human appear out of nowhere wanting to pet me and kiss me and tell me how cute I am. I know I am cute. I can't help it; I was born this way. Can't you see I am trying to nap? Please take my feelings and needs into consideration and let sleeping cats lie.
Complaint #6 - My freedom. Doggone it, I am a prisoner in this place. The pooch lets out one irritating bark and she gains access to a secret world I imagine is filled with edible prey and fields of catnip. No matter how much I meow, they refuse to let me explore this forbidden utopia. I do not understand why the humans hope to deny me such treats and pleasures. My best guess is they are jealous of my overall perfection.
I could go on, but I don't want to waste a minute more of any of my nine lives. Alas, it is time for one of my naps and a good stretch. I am certain you will agree with my terms. If you refuse, I will walk on you during the middle of the night, swish my tail in your face and cough up a hairball on the carpet when you have company over for dinner. If you are unable to make the modifications stipulated above, I respectfully request that a new home be found - for the dog.
Supremely and apathetically yours,
The Cat
- Jill Pertler's column appears every Thursday in the Times. She can be reached at pertmn@qwest.net.
