I just relieved myself in a pair of the she-servant’s heels. She saves them for special occasions. As do I – I only pee in the servants’ shoes when the occasion is just right – like when I am celebrating my half-birthday. I celebrate my half-birthday about six times a year. Here’s some math for you – that’s a dozen shoes each year that will never be worn again. My power is limitless!

Feb. 13

Speaking of my power – President Barack Obama just called my personal cell number to ask me to join his cabinet as Secretary of Feline Relations. I suspected the offer was coming, as I am clearly the most highly intelligent cat this planet has seen. The recognition is nice but tiresome, to be honest. The previous administration also requested my services. I declined; my recent involvement in the Enron collapse was all the thrill I needed at that time.

I wonder how Barack got my number.

Feb. 19

Perhaps I should accept my presidential appointment as Secretary of Feline Relations. I bet then I would receive tuna juice more regularly. It would probably be served with every meal, like fine wine.

You never know what’s up with my servants… lately I have been training them that any time a can opens in the kitchen, I expect tuna juice. At the first sound of the can opener, I race to the kitchen and wait expectantly. I use my big eyes to look desperate; surely they have to understand that I need tuna juice as much as they need water.

But no. They hardly seem to notice.

Their ignorance fuels my determination to inflict pain and display my power. Thankfully, I am planning to celebrate my half-birthday again tomorrow.