I am not a cat owner.  I am owned by my cat.  My cat tells me when to go to bed. My cat tells me when she wants to eat.  My cat tells me when to get up, which normally correlates with when she wants to eat.  Since I sleep with my cat – oh yes, the cat allows <i>me</i> the privilege of using the bed, but only when she feels like it.

If something is not to my cat’s liking, I’m to blame, and she tells me so. If she doesn’t like the food that I have given her, no matter whether she liked it yesterday, she complains to me until I give her something else that is to her taste today but probably will not be tomorrow.  But that is okay because I live to serve my cat.

My cat decides when it’s time to play with me and when it’s time to ignore me.  I should accept this without complaint. After all, my cat is in charge and she is the boss. I am just her servant. And if I dare to call her, she doesn’t answer, but if I don’t harken her call, I’m in big trouble.

Sometimes my cat allows me the privilege of petting her, and when she has had enough I will be told so.  After all, she should not be bothered more than necessary.   I am a cat employee and I live to serve her.   Everyone should be as lucky as I am.