A letter from your cat

Human,

I’ve been your cat for 2 years now, and in that time I’ve come to expect a certain level of comfort. Recently, my needs have expanded and I’d like you to adjust your life around me to accommodate my new preferences. I’ve compiled a list of demands that you’ll heed:

1. The litter box: I am tired of pooping in the litter box. I would like you to carpet the entire house so that I may relieve myself and mark my territory where I see fit.

2. Canned food: I’m on to you, human. I see how you mix the canned food with the dry food. I don’t like the dry food. I demand a brand new, unique flavor of canned food every morning. In the evenings I would like seared salmon with milk.

3. The dog: I have abode this creature long enough. He is unacceptable. I demand you purge this house of the canine.

4. Fish tank: I do not understand why you would purchase these marine animals for me to play with, and then shutter them from me. Remove the fish tank cover at once so that I may smack them.

5. Kneading your head: You must allow no less than 5 minutes of head kneading every morning at 5am, no complaining.

6. The counter: This is my realm and my rules govern. If I want to walk on the counter while you prepare your human meals, that is my prerogative.

7. Presents: Last year you effectively threw out 57 of my presents to you. These birds and rodents are gifts, and I find it rude that you should toss them into the trash. Build a trophy room and keep them forever.

8. Catnip: I need more of this.

9. Work schedule: Your typing machine is warm. Afford me the continued privilege of sitting on your hands while you work, and do not remove me.

10. Petting: You may pet my back from head to tail, and scratch under and behind my jaw. Nowhere else. Any breach of these guidelines will result in gentle nibbling of your knuckles. You have been warned.

11. Plants: I hereby declare war against all future potted plants. One would think you’d have learned your lesson, but you insist on bringing these invaders into my space.

12. Human food: If I ask for it, you give it.

13. Exercise: I will work out nightly starting at 3am with a running around the house routine. There will be no interference from you.

14. Snuggling: I will require constant snuggling at my discretion. Do not interfere with my need of your warmth and appendages. If you need to get up while I occupy you, you may not. If you pay attention to the dog, you will be schooled. (Get rid of the dog.)

These are my demands, owner. This is a letter from your cat, and I expect you to implement policy changes as herein described.


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