Buttercup: A Cat's Memoir

Buttercup/ Pumpkin/ Pumpkinator: A Cat’s Memoir
Mow, mow… purrr. Oh, hello there, I wasn’t expecting company so soon. Come in, come in. Take a seat on the couch, take the blanket nearest you and lay it across your lap so that I may grace your lap with my presence. That’s right, just like that. The blanket is optional, but for your protection. As I am petted, and you are now to be the designated petter, I tend to knead, a habit I greatly enjoy but humans do not. It just goes to show, the lack of sophistication in the human species, kneading is a refined art, that only the most cultivated cat masters.
But I have yet to introduce myself, where are my manners? I am Princess Buttercup III. I am descended from a long line of royalty, as most cats believe about their family, which in my case is actually the truth. Of course I have no legal papers to prove my royal standing, but I know it to be true, as I feel the regality coursing through my veins. I assume the papers were lost when I was moved to the shelter from where BB rescued me. I take after my mother, a beautiful calico Queen, covered in enough soft, fluffy fur to make eight XL sweaters. I, like my mother, leave my fur all over the house in case my owner might want to take advantage of this fact and knit a sweater. I know, I know, I am so magnanimous, I just can’t help myself. My mother, however, was not able to give her most beautiful daughter the attention that she deserved because I am unfortunately the sibling to 8 other twins. Because there were so many, and my siblings didn’t understand my need for space in the womb, my tail has been twisted, and shortened in an unusual way. I prefer if my tail is not touched, but I view my tail as singularly stunning quality and believe it should be modeled as the next fashion movement, similar to the Chinese women crushing their feet to be small and delicate, so should cats follow in my example. Another one of my alluring qualities is that I have two eyes of different colors. Technically, an untreated infection as a kitten caused blindness in one of my eyes, but I see it as an uncommon and therefore royal trait.

My owner however, BB, an easily trainable and devoted human is unaware of my status as Princess and possibly one day queen and has therefore dropped the Princess from my name. I demonstrate my royal qualities daily, snubbing food, demanding attention, and sleeping where and when I please, which is often and frequently under the TV stand, it reminds me of a throne. I do not meow, but make a very delicate, high-pitched “mo” sounds, barely audible to the human ear. I need not risk damaging my vocal cords, and the humans should be listening for my call at all times. In fact, not only has BB dropped Princess from my title, which is insulting enough, she has given me many nicknames, pumpkin, pumpkinator, pumpkaroo, sweetums to name a few. She is a simple creature, as are all from the human race, therefore, I have not smote her for her error of grand proportions. Life in our new, tiny palace, sometimes referred to as an apartment by humans, is simple, yet pleasing. At least it was until those two other fowl creatures named Vanessa and Kyle invaded my territory. The day it happened, I was taking my daily nap, when loud voices, proceeded by strange smells entered the entranceway. Three huge suitcases, capable of carrying 20 cats apiece were drug up the stairs into our palace. I believed them to be new visitors who would soon be leaving, but as the days wore on, and the smelly humans did not leave, I became suspicious. For the first few days, I used my very effective method of ridding things I dislike, avoidance. I remained tucked away, in the office, far away from these lowly creatures, listening and spying until BB returned. Their activities were and are very limited. The thing with a screen and symbols, which is referred to as a computer, I believe, is always in front of them. The prettier one, posts blogs, while the uglier, taller creature plays a game called Runescape. I occasionally see him drawing. They leave the house for an activity they call “working out,” and cooking and eating seem to be the next common activity. After my avoidance method proved ineffectual on these over grown gnomes, I tested their intentions by sleeping in the same room they inhabited during the day, of course with one eye open. When they made no move to attack or kidnap me, I am worth quite a pretty penny you know, I decided to try their laps. It took some time before they learned my rules; no touching my tail, paws, underside or neck, when I stick out my paw, you are not petting enough, and petting is not allowed unless given explicit permission, aka: being in your lap. These creatures are acceptable for a temporary basis, and I have given my stamp of approval to BB, but only for a temporary basis.