Today is the 7th of August, 2002. I've been enslaved by this family for about two years now. I distinctly remember the older boy seemingly leaving the house two years ago, when I was a child, and he told me that by the time he returned, I'd be gone. Gone. What a cruel concept.

What's even more cruel? I wasn't gone by the time he came back. He didn't seem too pleased about that, for some reason he never liked me. You'd think that he'd be the worst part of my story, but he isn't. The family itself is mean. They don't give me anything like what I deserve... no caring for my rights as a cat, far less for special privileges!

For one thing, it is my civil duty as a cat to be their King. This they do not understand! When I walk around and survey my kingdom outside their bedrooms, making my royal meows to summon my noblecat associates, they scream at me for making noise! Can you believe that? They actually try to get me to shut up! It's so surprising, gets me everytime. It's not that I obey their commands and hush, rather I find myself shocked beyond speech!

They don't seem to know their role in society at all. When Jack Spaniards fly into the house, they thrust me onto the floor and expect me to eat it. I know, it's horrifying! And that doesn't just go for Jack Spaniards either, or even insects! They must think that cats eat amphibians, because they try to get me to eat those tiny frogs too. Furthermore, when I do try to get down to their level and bond, by giving them an idea of which animal I could tolerate ingesting for their sake, they unashamedly accuse me of bringing rats> into the house! No wonder I didn't help the lady when the snake found its way from the nearby vacant lot into her backyard! (As if they'd even be able to recognise my stand for my beliefs... they thought I was afraid).

While we're on the topic, it has become apparent to me that the youngest son considers me a Sissy. Strange, he throws me to scare away insects, but I'm the sissy. I don't like him much though, and I think the feelings kind of mutual there too. After all, he's always playing with Britney and Sophie. To be honest, he's always talking about some "Bunny" so I'm not sure if he even likes cats that much!

I'll admit something, he tries. He would sometimes come up to me and rub my tummy, fluffing my fur for me. It's times like those that I think of everytime I'm tempted to jump off the balcony of the neighbour. He even taught me how to play rough, which really comes in handy when the meanie cats jump me in the street nearby. Well, I don't fight those bullies, and I do run away and cry as I sprint up the backstairs, begging for them to let me inside... but brave cats don't fight. It's silly American television that makes you think that cowards run away. Tell that to this young man, who still insists that I'm a sissy!

I get the idea that they don't like me as much as they say. The old lady won't even feed me, ignoring my pleas as I'm tortured by starvation. The boys prefer to attempt to teach me how to defend myself. The lady does give me food, but really, when she stopped giving food upon request, blaming it on "greed", that was really the last straw- I knew I had to start seeking other nutrition alternatives.

So I made a habit of stealing Andy's cat's food. I mean, Andy is just so inconsiderate! He and I are neiiighbours, so why can't I come over once in a while and dine with his cat family? And those cats! Don't even get me started with them! All I did was give my own cousin a little paw to the head to show who's bigger, and he complained to Andy that I beat him up for his food! Does he not understand that his food is my food? I always did think that schooled cats were stupid cats.