Guest Columnist: Roxy the Cat

It is Day 1,067 of my captivity and still, this female human shows no signs of allowing me to escape.

Do not let her appearance fool you--she can be cruel and heartless and downright loud. Dear Food God, when will this torture end?!
I suppose it's not such a bad setup. This female, who calls herself "Mommy" in a really annoying voice, feeds me twice a day, though not nearly as much as she has in the past. She recently brought in a new bag of food that smells and tastes different from my usual gourmet fare. I've heard her call it "indoor weight and hairball control"; I don't know what it means but if it has anything to do with my unfortunate coughing up of various furballs, she'll just have to deal with it as it's something I can't change and wouldn't if I could. I wasn't sure if I'd like the new food or not, but I'll eat it because she obviously doesn't understand that even royalty will stoop to eating whatever is put in front of them when they're held against their will.

Mommy leaves me alone most of the day (unless I yowl or cry, in which case she comes running and soothes me though there's nothing wrong, I just wanted attention). But ever since I was a kitten she's put me on her right shoulder. I've claimed this spot as my own, and I get pretty irritated if I smell other creatures' scents on it. That is MY spot to perch upon, MY chin to headbutt, MY chest to roll over on. I will also lie on whatever part of her I wish. As my human slave/captor, it is the least she can do.

She recently put me through a torture that happens a few times a year. She goes into a strange room with a horrible basin full of water. She removes everything from the room except a small plastic cup and a bottle. She then proceeds to remove all of the fabric from her body, because as per previous discussions I will get her all wet and she will be forced to take a shower after this particular torment. I've heard her call it a "bath". I've told her, in my yowling dulcet tones, that I do not like this procedure and will scratch her and not deign to give her any cuddles if she keeps rubbing that disgusting crap into my fur. I swear, it takes me hours to put my luxurious coat to rights again. 

Mommy likes to take pictures of me. This one was taken as I was trying to get her attention long enough to have her pet me.

 

 This next one was taken when I was a kitten, when I had nice flexibility and was quite the acrobat in my day.

 We recently took a trip back to where we are from, the Tri-Cities. I'd like to mention that I don't like to travel at all, I have a very delicate disposition that requires me to lay in the sun on a very comfy piece of kitty furniture all day. Mommy told me we'd only be gone a week and we'd have to deal with a puppy, but she lied. We stayed much longer and the alleged "puppy" was an almost full-grown black lab who seemed to be called "Boomer". His name is irrelevant; during this agonizing trip, to me he was called "The Bane of My Existence". I was finally able to make him cower at my presence, hissed at him every time he so much as breathed, but allowed him to sleep on the bed with the humans and myself because he was so annoying if I didn't. Mommy will try to tell you that I once took a nap right next to The Bane but that is slander and she will be punished if she keeps telling such vile fictions.


The Bane is pictured here, being contained by a male human who Mommy calls "Uncle Mike" (he must be from the same litter or something). I like Uncle Mike because he feeds me every now and then when Mommy abandons me. 

Yes. The Bane really does hold that tongue outside his head at all times. He tried to lick my ass a number of times, but he's totally not even my species. Get a life, loser. 



I've heard true horror stories about others of my kind, how their captors treat them like pets. But here, I'm honored as the queen I am, second to none, though Mommy has told me she wants another animal when we move to our next home. Like I'd ever let that happen. I will put this supposed new animal in its place. 

I pray to the Food God that I will find the path of escape soon so that I may reconnect with my true queen-ness, though I will miss Mommy's pettings and cooings (when I want them).