Hey, I’m Coco, and i’m a cat..which you’ve probably already guessed from the title.
I would like to tell you my story, if you’ll lend a willing ear (if not, I’ll claw at it until it lends itself anyway).
I live with some strange people. I mean, don’t get me wrong, when cats decide to take in people, they usually love them, and don’t show it. I love them, and do show it, all the time. But they’re pretty unusual.
There is first, an eighteen year old who isn’t the tallest specimen I’ve seen. When I want to climb up from her legs to her shoulders, I don’t have a lot of distance to cover. I sleep on her pillow, next to her hair, which constantly gets in my eyes. And so I try to untangle it with my nails. This one time, she nearly stepped on me and then, gave me a look of the utmost reproach, while I glared at her to show her who’s boss. She’s one of my prime worshipers (ehh, what can you do with fame?) and is always ready to pass out a hug, cuddle or behind-the-ear scratch. After I lost all three of my own kittens, which I’m not ready to talk about just yet, I was depressed for days. She let me use her bed, where I slept all day, too heartbroken to move or eat, and I admit, she tried to take care of me as best she could. But if I start talking about what humans don’t understand, I would be talking for days..
Sometimes, she sits on a desk in front of a black machine which has a screen. I usually try to climb on it and sleep, because it feels warm and comforting. She pushes me off over and over. But i’m plotting my revenge. You’ll see.
The second one in the litter, (for there are three in total), is a fourteen year old. And this one is quite tall, and quite thin. She’s a quite kitten, I mean human, but the one I like teasing the most. There’s something about her that makes her my perfect prey catching practice target. She likes spending most of her time with black wires in her ears, listening to people screaming in pain. Or that’s what it sounds like to me anyway. This middle one is quite noble, and bears the frequent scratches I give her like a warrior. I’ve even heard from the cat down the street that this middle one takes in strays…err cats which haven’t decided on a family to take in yet, and provides food and cuddles. I feel, as a human she is therefore adequately fulfilling her purpose in life, and is on the right track, although I will not let another cat take over my family. I don’t mingle with the street cats often, its too much cheap talk and rough fur.
The last of them, is a small thing, just nine years old. She and I have our own war: we have a staring contest everyday to determine who is superior. Needless to say I know my duty, I always let her win. But I don’t usually go to her for affection, because she hasn’t yet learned to be gentle with animals, and for me, who is of a much higher distinction that humans even, she needs to learn much. There is always an indeterminate one in the litter, and I mark my claim on her anyway by rubbing against her legs so she does not run off with the street cats. A cat’s gotta do what a cat’s gotta do after all.
These are the three most important worshipers I had to tell you of, as the rest don’t matter much. I hold my head up high and do not get offended at their less-than-welcoming natures. Well, nature fixes even the most stubborn human in time. So goodbye. And before I go, i’ll add a self portrait, in which I look rather wise, philosopher like. You may wonder where I got hold of this, but like I said, paparazzi are unshakable.