Howie the Cat

4:15 p.m. Friday, August 29, 2008
I want a canoe. Imagine me perched on the bow of the canoe, head high, hair flowing, and my orange life vest glowing in the sun. Being very familiar with my handsome looks, I don’t have to imagine this. Give me the canoe and the life vest and your imagination will be a reality.

Of course I can swim. I do not need a life vest. I don’t even need a canoe, except to make my life vest relevant. The real desire here is for the life vest itself. I want it badly, because it is a bold, undeniable testament to the fact that my life is valuable and should be saved at any cost. Yes, any cost. Including you and your “life.”

I would wear my life vest at all times, so all who see me respect my worth. If doubters question my life vest, I will tell them my canoe is just in the next room, and to shut up, and while they are at it, to go get me some catnip. Then I will ban them from my kingdom. They are dirty, anyway.

The continuing adventures of Howie, the overly fuzzy mastermind

6:13 p.m. Wednesday, July 30, 2008
My carpet experiments have had exciting developments, leading to two new discoveries:

1. Ripping at the carpet in a torrid frenzy releases many more pieces of carpet than a normal tug. In fact, a single pull at the carpet will only loosen one or two pieces. Rapid clutch-and-release action brings up an average of eight pieces per second.

2. The sound of carpet shredding brings servants running. Excellent discovery. I now do this in front of any closed door, because within two seconds (16 pieces of released carpet), a servant arrives to open the door.

I am still drafting a plot to keep these doors from closing. I will not be denied access to any part of my kingdom. Updates on this will come later.

5:47 p.m. Thursday, July 31, 2008
I just finished watching the NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams and am encouraged to hear that the salmonella outbreak has not been solved. This makes an intriguing add to my scientific studies. Here’s my plan:

The servants, who will eat anything, make perfect test subjects. For one week, I will dip dozens of my hairs in tomato juice. I will release the contaminated hairs into the kingdom, to eventually land on the servants’ food. Then I will watch carefully for signs of illness. It’s true that the slothful nature of my servants could conceal symptoms of illness, so I will carefully track how long they spend in the bathroom, the sounds from within the bathroom, and the odors that exude from the facility.

After a week studying tomatoes for salmonella, I will dip my hairs in chili pepper juice, which Brian said may also be a culprit. Observations will follow.

Lastly, I will spend a week using spinach juice, in case I am fortunate enough to find e.coli. The symptoms are similar to salmonella, which is disappointing. I prefer more dramatic results, but will settle for the delicious glory of general illness, should it strike the servants.