I wake up hungry. I meow to wake my human. She sleeps either way too much or not enough. She's annoyed with my cries through her bedroom door, so she gets up.
"Sirius, stop talking!" She says, yawning, her hair highly un-groomed.
I meow some more and go to my food dish shaped like a cauldron.
"Grr, cat," she grumbles, padding barefoot into the kitchen. The beastly mutts jump around her, wasting their energy. They need to relieve themselves, they are too big for a box and not bright enough for the toilet.
I continue to meow, staring at her with sad eyes that I know she cannot resist. She fills my bowl with delicious food. But before I can take my first bite, Victoria Secret, the newest addition to my home, climbs onto the chair and jumps into my food. I try biting her, but then she thinks it is playtime. She attacks, unprofessionally, and nibbles on my ear. If I am lucky, she will choke on a furball and die, leaving me the only cat. There should never be more than one ruler. Since she is just a baby, I don't go to the lengths of killing her myself, though I had a wonderful dream she got flushed down the toilet. Or maybe Kenni will bite too hard one day and Victoria's head will fall off. One can only hope.
After breakfast, I perch ontop of the back of the sofa, out of reach of the Stupid Ones. Kenni jumps, trying her hardest to bite my tail, which, of course, I swing to and fro for the sole purpose of annoying her. My goal each day is to torment, causing pain and suffering wherever I can. Someday, when my human least expects it, I will manage to escape out the front door. I did once, and that ended in loads of pain and surgery, but the bill my human continues to pay is almost worth it.
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