On the corner of a drainage ditch and a stop sign sits a small, wooden home. Due to its relatively small size, the ironic nature of etymology, and the condiment-hued color of the exterior asbestos, we will simply refer to it as the Little Mustard Mansion. Now, the home itself is not really much to look at. A small concrete stoop upon the front steps, a little wooden deck off of the back, and an unattached two car garage built from the ground of blocks. However, it is a home all in the same. Enter in the new owners, a young couple, eyes on the horizon of possibilities and a drive to succeed within their hearts. This will be their very first home. With them they are moving with three pets: A large, white bulldog named “Tinkerbell”, a small Jack Russell Terrier named “Sunny”, and a rather magnificent and resplendently-orientated cat, respectively named “Kitty-Kitty”.
It is easily assumed that between the five of them, each and every day will be rather lively, both cumbersomely and aggravatingly. With Tinkerbell, she is somewhat lazy. For purposes of relatability, she has the energy of a cheetah, and the recklessness of a freight train. She is, as most would begin to describe, “A Bull in a China Shop”. She is not the most cautious creature in the home, levelling drinks and plates on the coffee table with one swish of her tail. The small one, Sunny, he is simply loud. He makes it a point to makes as much noise as possible whenever anyone knocks on the door, a car passes by the home, a doorbell is rung, when someone comes in the home wearing a hat, when someone comes in the home while standing, when someone sits down on the couch, and even when someone that he’s never met tries to pet him on the head. Simply put, he barks, incessantly.
However, we finally come to the most respected and esteemed member of the household, me, the Cat. I have been tasked with the effort of both, keeping the new home in proper order, and reassuring that the animals are behaving as they should. Due to my highly appreciated status bestowed upon me by the owners, I will be issuing a report upon my observing and the standing of the home each week in order to ensure the upkeep of the living arrangements.
To my bountiful owners, I promise you I shall not fail at my task, nor shall I stray from my objectives. I will make sure to uphold a professional and mindful sense of edicacy. However, due to the high-level of stress associated with my job title I do have a few requests:
- Firstly, the West Wing. Now, I understand that the home is small and that, encompassing the entire home, there are technically only two wings, but I believe that it is not asking too terribly much to reserve one-half of the household to me, my professional duties and my personal affairs. I do, as you well assume, have a busy schedule outside of my working hours.
- Secondly, a Hamster. I do not mean this in any type of disrespect towards the species itself. It is simply that, during my mandated breaks between shifts, I will need something to do and I can only clean myself so much. If you would kindly purchase me one from local pet store, the place where you obtain my fancy feast, and place it in one of those plastic balls, I would be much obliged.
- Third, I kindly request that I am allowed private reign of the home during the hours of 11pm and 5am. Seeing as how I am busy sleeping and…err…I mean “Surveying the dogs” all day, I require some me time in order to stretch my legs and burn off any excess energy. It is absolutely imperative in order for me to work all of the kinks out of my spine after a long day at work.
- And lastly, I have one demand, and this is the most important matter to be agreed upon. Whenever you, the owners, have guests over at the home, they are not allowed to pet me, to touch me, to kiss my forehead, to shove their faces in my face, the pick me up, to carry me, and especially not cradle me on my back within their arms and coo at me as if I am a newborn child. It is humiliating. It is demoralizing, unsanitary, and outright deprecating to my rights as a living creature. I do have standards. I do not know how you expect me to do my job efficiently if I am not treated with respect from all who look upon me.
Furthermore, as long as my requests are met and I am allowed the means to do my job the way I see fit, then there should be no complications. I look forward to working with you.
Sincerely, The Cat.
