There is nothing like a day when the humans are gone to curl up and sleep on the old man’s pillow. The warm sun beating down on you. No one yelling at you. Ahhh…just rest and relaxation.
Sadly, these kinds of days are only known in my dreams. Life for me is shockingly difficult. I can’t even step foot on the stairs without the old man yelling at me. It’s never safe in the living room because that little child who smells like vanilla and sugar is always picking me up and holding me high in the air (Although sometime she does smell like tuna and that is rather pleasant). If I want to go into the other rooms, I always have to be on guard because the dogs like to tease me and call me names. They brag in my face about how they are so loved by the humans. You may say, “Well, why not live outside? I’m sure you can live happily out there.” Ha, not a chance! Neighbors see me and treat me like I’m some cute little animal. What do they think I am? A cat? Sometimes I wish I could just run away from it all.
My life in this particular household started about twenty-eight years ago. Or three years, so they tell me in “human years.” I remember the little child, that other child who always makes that terrible loud noise on that huge musical contraption as well as the old man, all coming to get me. I was very upset with my old caretakers because no one even told me I was going on a trip. I had to leave all my old things and all of my siblings behind. How upsetting! And when I tried to go back to get all of my stuff, my new humans ran after me and picked me right back up again. They wouldn’t even let me sit in the front seat. They acted as if I was an utterly helpless little animal! When we arrived at my new dwelling, I was very confused. I decided it would be best if I just stayed in my box all day. The longer I could avoid facing them, the better.
After a few days, I became bored of my daily routine and I decided to go exploring. The creatures wouldn’t let me leave the back room, though, so I could go no further than there.  Eventually, I was allowed to travel into the other rooms. It was very frustrating, though, because whenever I wanted to do something adventurous the little child and the other child similar to her would pick me up. Whenever I decided to leave my civilized behavior and have fun, they would tell me I was being a “bad cat” and yell. Worst of all they wouldn’t even call me by my name. The little child’s name for me is “Kitten”. What kind of a name is that? Although, lately she has been calling me by an even worse name… “Kitathon”. The loud child would call me “Misty” or “Bella”. Though I must admit, I find the latter one rather favorable. I must say, though, the worst name I have ever been called ever in my life is simply, “The Cat”. Imagine that. An intellectual like me being called simply “The Cat”. It is a terrible thought, yet so it has happened.  Little does anyone realize that my real name is Princess Kitalina Maria Catson.
My life became extraordinarily more difficult two “human” years ago when the creatures decided to bring another dog into the dwelling. It wasn’t so bad with the old dog. We would just ignore each other the majority of the time. But this animal is the most annoying, disturbing thing I have ever met in my life! The worst part is that everyone adores her! She has even tried to be my “friend” (whatever that means). Most of the time she wants to play with me by chasing me around. What kind of game is that? It has also become increasingly difficult to consume my morning meal because the dogs are always stealing my food. Luckily though, I can always seem to trick that little child into thinking I have not been served my food yet.
And so brings me to another disastrous area in my life. Food. Oh, you should see the kind of slop they give. Hardened bits of stuff that are supposed to taste like gourmet fish and chicken but really just taste like cardboard. Sometimes they give me something called “Fancy Feast”. But it is in no way fancy whatsoever.
Another thing that has made my life very difficult is that I seem to no longer have my one form of defense. My claws. It seems that the old lady had my claws removed while I was re-energizing my body. Now if I need to defend myself I can only bite. But all the creatures think it is “absolutely adorable” whenever I do that.
I know after reading this story of my life, you may think I am a snobbish little creature, but the truth is that this past year I have been trying to make some changes. Some of the family’s members seem to have noticed and have begun to treat me in some of the more royal ways that I deserve. But then, there are the old ones who still seem to hate me. Of course, I have been trying in every effort to become “friends” with them as the little dog would put it, but they still seem to see me as an uncivilized miniscule creature who deserves to be put in a box for the rest of her life.
One day, I hope that my dreams will all come true and I will live in luxury like a queen is supposed to. Until then, I will only be given the world to see through cat eyes.