Misplaced Priorities.

I suppose I'm a fickle feline. Then, most of us are. When my human is paying me constant attention, I get annoyed, but when she's preoccupied with something else I become jealous. I'm not sure why I'm like this, but I certainly can't deny that it's true. My best guess is that I prefer affection on my terms; I like to be in control. That's why I'm not too happy with this new career Azy has begun. She's still home, but I'm no longer her center of attention, and, in fact, I find myself having to beg for it.

When she first left her away job, she was constantly doting on me. Always taking pictures of me, petting me, playing with me, napping with me; I couldn't escape her. Now, however, she's spending more time with her pictures than she is with me. I have no idea why she would prefer a picture of me to the real thing, but she claims it's because they hold still while she's trying to draw them.

Maybe what perturbs me most is that all that annoyance wasn't really because she couldn't get enough of my sleek, glossy, black, pantheresque physique. All she really wanted was to get a few good snaps to use when practicing her drawing. I guess I should be flattered; but I'd much rather have timely meals than flattery, and now that she's all wrapped up in her art I'm finding that I have to be louder and more purrsistant at earlier hours if I wish to get my supper on time.

She says I'm being unreasonable. She claims that I've got more annoying since she's started working at home, and that I've no sense of time. She swears that she's feeding me on time, and that I'm just being paranoid because she's not constantly reassuring me. She also had the nerve to tell me that I've got a spare tire! Huh! A cat with a spare tire! It's appalling! I'll starve to death before long. I mean, look at me! I'm practically skin and bones! Who ever heard such absurdity?

I think she's the one being unreasonable. How can she expect me to sit patiently, watching her paint pictures of huge giraffes and silly-looking glowing things, knowing that she's not watching the clock? She might get all wrapped up in her work and forget that there are only two, possibly three, hours left before she needs to feed me. And how does she expect me to be satisfied with several short sessions of mouse on a stick, when she's home for hours? She should be entertaining me. That is her responsibility, after all. That's what humans are supposed to do, isn't it? I think there's even a proverb somewhere that says: All the days of your life you must feed, house, stroke, feed, play with, peel grapes for, pay attention to, fan, feed, dote on, clean the sand of, feed and entertain felines, for it is the whole obligation of man. I could be wrong, but I swear I've read that somewhere before.

I don't know what to do with this human of mine. First she's too lovey, now she's not lovey enough. I need to develop a plan of action. Something that will bring her to her senses; something that will make her realize that there is more to life than trying to be balanced between your work and your feline friends. Yes, I need to find a way to make her realize that I am her number one priority. Either that, or I need to learn how to open the kibble tin without her.

Yours Purringly,
W.C. Humphries II (Mr. Fleez for short.)