Emma's Corner: On Being Queen and Stuff Like That
On Being Queen and Stuff Like That
Greetings, humans! It's Emma, your renowned feline ruler.
I know it’s been a while since I checked in – or rather, took over – on this blog. Well, you can’t ask what I was doing! Let’s just say it was important, and as a human slave, it’s none of your business. Meow, meow, meow…
Anyway, with this post, I want to do a little flashback. My pet human, Marie – for some reason, she likes to call herself my owner…which is quite warped, don’t you agree? – has written several Victorian stories, and published three of those novels.
Well, because of this, I sometimes wonder what it might’ve been like to be a cat in the Victorian era. Of course, I would rule then just as I do now. Perhaps I would’ve taken on the title of ‘Queen’ rather than your Feline Goddess, yes? Of course, I already use all the ruling titles.
Pardon me…the stupid humans are speaking again…
Hmm. She tells me I probably would’ve been like Queen Victoria.
Good grief! That’s rather enough of that, dear. I’m not sure who the lady is that she speaks of, but I will not be overruled. When you’re sleeping later, I’ll rub my paw over your face to stir up your allergies, shall I?
She is wise to step away…
Anyway, judging by the wild costumes I’ve viewed from Marie’s research on the time period, perhaps a crown would suffice. Well, besides a velvet throw (I love my comfy blankets) and enough food to please me, I wouldn’t want for anything, would I?
Perhaps I’d even step outside the house for a change. No, you say there were dogs then as well? It can’t be!
Surely there must’ve been some Victorians who worshipped cats.
Ah, I rest my case. They were wise indeed!
But we live in the here and now, don’t we? And I must say, I relish my modern amenities (heat when it’s freezing outside and air conditioning in the summertime), not to mention that lovely pet fountain the humans set up for us felines.
Katerina (aka Kit) doesn’t know that you’re not supposed to drink water with your paw!
After entertaining the idea of being immersed in the Victorian age, I am sure I could’ve survived then, and very well, if I do say so myself. As we all know, I reigned in each of my past lives. They say the Egyptians worshipped felines (and why wouldn’t they?) too, and even though I can’t remember that far back, I’m sure I was one of them. I should pick a cool Egyptian name as well, don’t you think?
“Queen Nubia, we worship your royal presence!”
That’s more like it! Humans these days are so irreverent, don’t you agree? Too bad we can’t eat them! But they would taste horrible. Blech…
Don’t you think it’s horrific that they have very little hair? Such strange creatures indeed.
Yet I digress. Wait, Marie tells me it’s time to go to bed.
I told you, inferior thing! I’m never going to bed!
All right, I’m going, I’m going. Is it necessary to nudge me? Like I said before, I have ways to punish her. Perhaps an ankle bite when she’s least expecting it?
I suppose I should sign off. Goodnight, human slaves, and meow, meow, meow, et cetera, et cetera.
Ruler of the Universe and Supreme Feline,
Emma A.K.A 'the Munchkin' Mulrooney