It’s about time for the world to know my name, so I’m starting this blog. As a cat, my life is extremely busy, so I can’t be expected to write to you every day, but I’ll try to fit it in between my usual eighteen hours of sleeping, two hours of grooming, and TV watching. What, you expect me to watch birds all day?

I’m a very refined cat, because I am a purebred Persian with silky white fur. The hairballs are tough, but it’s not easy being beautiful. I come from a long line of show cats, but I myself could not follow in their stead. I have a crook in my tail, and my humans worried that I would mouth off to the judges. I wanted to be shown, but the confines of the world of cat fanciers are too narrow for me, anyway.

I was bought by a middle-aged couple who had spent twenty years on the East Coast cat show circuit. My registered name is Princess Anna Maria Sofia von Habsburg-Rabinowitz, but I have always just gone by Princess. We lived in a plush Upper East Side classic six, and I was fed with a silver spoon. Life was pretty good, until I got old enough to talk. I know it sounds cliche, but I learned to speak English by watching TV, just like Madison in Splash. The humans’ affections cooled toward me, and they would stop talking abruptly when I entered the room. Occasionally I would overhear suspicious phrases such as “monetize her talents.” I knew they were up to something, so I might have accidentally knocked a halogen lamp onto the hardwood floor, and I might have locked the Rabinowitzs’ bedroom door from the outside. I was the only one to survive the fire. I was pulled from the blaze by a handsome firefighter and taken to a local animal shelter.

The animal shelter was truly the seventh circle of Hell. All day and night, idiotic dogs barked endlessly. None of the cats spoke English, and my cage had no privacy. I had to learn to feed myself. But all of my suffering paid off, because after a few days, I was adopted by a twenty-something graphic designer named Jeanine.

Jeanine and I share a small one bedroom in Brooklyn. It’s not much, but it’s home. I convinced her to get cable, and my life is pretty good. I like to watch TV with her and snark about all of the stupid humans, or the stupid animals on Animal Planet and Discovery Channel. Jeanine is pretty soft, so she’s easy to manipulate. Occasionally she’ll get out the spray bottle, but I have techniques to deflect her anger. I am very good at being cute, and I plan to use this skill to take over the world someday. But for now, the internet will have to do. I know you’ll be back.  Humans generally can’t resist me when I’m at my most charming.

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