Guest Blogger
Hello, my name is Munchie. I used to be a tiny, sweet, scrawny little stray cat whose head was too big for her body. Zigkvetch, or as I like to call her, High-Pitched-Food-Giver found me on the side of the road one night.
She brought me home and showed me to Low-Pitched-Food-Giver, and I knew I had a good thing, so I played it up with perfection (I always knew those years of doing Shakespeare in the Park would come in handy). I cuddled and purred and nuzzled in as close to their necks as I could; a veritable vessel of love:
Of course, it worked like a charm; these Food-Givers are really quite dull. Soon I had completely infiltrated their house, lives and hearts. MUAHAHAHAHA! Yes, it was all part of my evil plan. (You can see a foreshadowing of evil in that last picture, can't you? CAN'T YOU?!)
Slowly, I began to train them to uphold my expectations and cater to my every whim. Soon I had them in my pink little paw. I was eating bits of cheese and the occasional edamame; I was allowing them to hold me only upon my convenience and consent; I captured and occupied the couch by the window, and of course, took to lounging and lolling about wherever I damn well pleased...
But still, they have far to go. When they pick me up prior to getting my express permission, I must hiss and lash my tail in utter outrage. Of course I still just lay there and cuddle in a little because, it truly is cozy, but not without voicing my wrath!
And what do the Food-Givers do? They laugh at me and cuddle me more! Insolent fools! How dare they!?
So, I've devised a fiendish new plan. Now that I have tripled in size, I shall lie upon my back in front of them and purr. No Food-Giver can resist the power of the fur belly! So furry and round- most excellent to behold! How can they not touch it in awe?
And therein lies the trap. With one touch, I shall spring into action and shred them within inches of their lives and gnash my teeth into their flesh. Of course, I won't actually use my claws or actually bite them- that would just be uncouth. Beneath me, even. Probably unsanitary. Nay, I am quite sure that my show of sheer ferocity shall scare them into being far more docile pets, er, Food-Givers. They'll know who's boss.
BEHOLD!
How dare you take pictures, madam!?
Hey! Stop it! Stop it, I say!
Why are they continuing to try to oodle my belly? They should be shaking in terror! Stop it! (oh my, that tickles!) HALT! (Damnation! I just let out a little purr.) Must...thwart...enemy...
Damn you! DAMN YOU!
Curses! Foiled again. This is not over, Food-Givers. Oh no, this is not over...