The Birth of a Queen
Eleven years ago, my human mom (Marie) came to The Humane Society. Two months after suffering a great loss regarding her longtime feline companion, she was ready to open her heart again. When I saw her from my cage, while shoved in there with my troublesome brothers, I deigned to look my best as I always did when potential foster families came to the building. I tried everything I could to show her I was sweet and a good kitten, the perfect fit for her.
So unlike the other two, right? It's every kitty for herself in a place like that! ♥
And guess what? It worked! The die was cast, the ruse a success. Finally, I was away from the nightmare, prepared to thrive as queen of my own domain.
I was on my best behavior while this lady signed all the paperwork involved in said adoption. I was even good when Marie placed me in a shopping cart and wheeled me around some store called PetSmart. I acted afraid of all the big toys, and found the perfect feather wand and bed, which were deserving of my regal presence.
I preened at the oohs and aahs of other customers when they saw me. How magnanimous I was!
Two hours later, I was already officially installed in my new home.
It took time to get used to those surroundings, the various smells which weren't unpleasant yet certainly unfamiliar. Some kind of barrier was put up to prevent me from discovering other rooms, but I climbed the monstrosity like a total boss.
Did you ever doubt I could?
I had a great laugh over how worried and frustrated my human slave became. I told her just what I thought.
"Ha! Too late now, human. You can't return me. You signed a binding contract. You're stuck with me, and you'd better treat this Royal Miss well. You'll also have to get a model release from me any time you even think about taking a picture. I know, I know. I'm gorgeous, but you can surely control yourself, right? Unless you're really that dumb..."
I hear Marie whispering now...
"How many of you have ever personally felt victimized by a cat?"
So? Suck it up!
Needless to say, it's taken years to try to get all the idiot humans in the house to understand me, even when I speak slowly to make it easier on them.
I plan to rule the universe one day, minions! Never doubt your highness.
But I digress. Today is what the human's call a 'birthday'. At the time of my adoption, Marie was told that I'd reached six weeks of age. So...she can only guesstimate that April 30th must be an appropriate time to set the date I was born. Of course, kitties never create such a day to commemorate each year.
No...to us every day is a reason to celebrate our perfection. Provide food, water, treats, a pristine litter box, the perfect spot to nap, a great place to bird-watch, maybe throw us the occasional catnip toy or wave a string around, and we're usually happy.
For myself, I have more refined tastes. I always have, though I won't snub my nose at the aforementioned items. I deserve to reign over both humans and the animal kingdom. I am their sovereign. Why can't they get it through their thick skulls, huh?
Even Katerina, or Kit Kat - that ebony thing that they let in from the cold years ago - overlooks my superiority. I've tried to master her, beat her into submission. What do I get in return? A claw in the eye. Thanks for nothing! But I've known from day one that we'd never be 'friends'. I just don't lean that way. I deserve to be worshiped.
Last year, we lost my adopted brother, Smokey, the gray tabby. I know Mom misses him a lot. She doesn't say so, and probably doesn't think I realize how sad she got. But I believe she's ready to have another male kitty in the house.
What do I think? Uggh, no way! Boys are gross. Plus, there's no more room for anyone except me. Mom doesn't give me a choice about Kit. I have a hard enough time competing with the human she calls a fiancé for her attention.
Hey, what is an 'ego'? Marie once said I have a massive ego, that it was probably due to the trauma I'd suffered before she adopted me. She thinks I still harbor resentment, and quite a bit of anger about the whole thing.
Trauma? Hmm...not really. Just give me a run at that stranger who locked me in a bucket in the hot sun (before I had to be re, ah, resuscitated?), and he'll be sorry for it, I promise!
Why are you looking at me like that? There's nothing wrong with capital punishment, right? ;)
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, telling you all about my birth. I know it's been a while since I popped in here to say anything. Marie has been trying to ban me from use of her blog, but as you know, I'll never be kept down.
Ha! Who's in charge? Mmm-hmm. That's right.
The inferior humans will learn someday. In the meantime, let's celebrate moi. Why not? It's a great reason to party.
Happy Birthday to Your Supreme Ruler! Let me hear all the applause for your queen here. Shower me with treats and petting. Seriously...don't get too handsy. I bite! I know, I know. I'm the cutest cat ever, but you humans smell strange. Definitely not purrfect like a kitty.
OMG, how can you not bathe with your tongue? It's just weird to dunk yourself in water. What are you trying to do, drown every day? SMH.
Plus, lately Marie's kept so busy with blogging on her other blogs and numerous author obligations - not to mention doctor appointments and family stuff - that she's worn out. I am exhausted just looking at her.
Ah, I'm tired now.
I am signing off. Have a nice month of May, human slaves. Until next time...goodbye for now and meow, meow, meow, et cetera, et cetera.
As
always,
Ruler
of the Universe and Supreme Feline,
Emma
A.K.A 'the Munchkin' Mulrooney
