Comments from the "staff"

Dogs have owners, cats have staff.

I am staff for a six pound alien empress. I found her one night when I straddled her with my truck. Some person unknown to me had set her out in the middle of the road.

Bastard.

She has ordered me around for fifteen years I think. She gets around really well, particularly when the Basset hound is giving motivation. She is snooty in her choice of rations, whines to get her way, and when she has to go out, she tells me. She can't quite get the "t" sound, but close enough. She will also knock on the window to come in. She drools when she is happy, like when you scratch her ears. Her squinty eyed, hairy little face, with the whiskers pushed forward, would make Scrooge smile. She plays pitiful and comes around to reach up and touch you with a paw, as if to say "I need some love, but it's just too hard for little old me to get up there." Bunk, if she wants to she can do five feet straight up, and twenty miles an hour forward or reverse. She will only sit on your left side, and loves a warm lap. When we build a fire I swear the heat slut is going to crawl in.

She is really a griping hissy thing when the pup comes around. The dog would Hold her and squeeze her and love her and lick her all over. But the princess ain't havin' it, nosireebob, hisses fit to blow a gasket. She doesn't have front claws, so she just pats the pup on the nose at the speed of kitty. Dawg don't get the message.

I am fortunate indeed to know my place in the world, as long as I have thumbs to open the daily manna, she will tolerate me.