Life of a cat

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Hi, my name is Missy

I got my name when I had some kittens and decided that the people next door to where I was living would be better slaves.

It’s the old saying that people don’t own cats. The cats own the people and they are actually their slaves.

The name was actually my choice, but sometimes you have to let your slaves think that they had made a decision.

In my early years with them, I trained them to take care of my every need.

With little effort, it was easy to get them to have a continuing supply of food and water.

I even managed to get them to provide a litter tray and even change the soiled contents on a regular basis.

One day they went out and purchased a bed for me, but as it wasn’t my choice, I just did the next best thing and slept on the floor.

They tried to get me to settle on their lap, and although that was good for a while, I found that it was only to keep them warm, so a few claws into the skin did the trick.

As I grew older my reflexes slowed, until one day a dog as big as a horse wanted to play with me, but as he didn’t realise his strength, he did major damage to my right front leg. It was so bad that I had to have it amputated.

Now you may think that this would be a bad thing, but it has turned out for the better, because now my slaves treat me with extra loving care. Not that they didn’t do that before, but now it’s even better.

I have learnt all sorts of tricks to get that extra attention, like sitting on the edge of the bed and pretending that I can’t get down. That’s when they come and gently lower me to the floor, for which I respond with a small meow.

They think that I am thanking them for doing the good deed, but actually I am saying, ha ha got you again.

Another is when I stand, or rather sit, because, remember I only have three legs, and look blankly at the water bowl. That’s when they go and fill it up and again it ends with a small meow. This time I’m saying, keep up the good work and one day I might let you stroke me.

My best trick is when I relieve myself, in the litter box of course, we cats aren’t that uncivilised, with the smelliest of do doos, and they have to go and remove it. Fortunately for me, it takes a couple of minutes for the aroma to permeate, so I have time to remove myself to another room of the house.

Oh, yes I have a daughter and most times she sleeps either on me or right up close to me. I named her Scally, short for Scallywag, as she is always getting up to something. Another ploy by me to take the heat away from my daily exploits.

My slaves don’t like feeding me when they are having their meals, but one of my slaves has a brother slave and when he comes for dinner, I can give him that look, and you know “the” look. He then accidentally drops a piece of chicken or some other kind of meat, which I gratefully accept and devour with pleasure. Boy have I got him fooled

All in all, life is great and as long as I can keep letting my slaves think that they are in charge, my future looks to be full of domination, and food.

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