Rumors of assassination plots equal holidays for the queen

While out on one of his adventures, Fairbanks heard whisperings.

No, Nick. Not wiskerings. Gawd, you are so stupid sometimes.

(Sometimes I wonder if Nick is actually related to me. What if he was a stray, commoner kitten who wandered into the royal nursery and somehow got mistaken for a royal kitten? That would certainly explain a few things.)

There is a distinct possibility that he is not related to me.

So, anyway, Fairbanks heard rumors that the rodents - or someone else equally unsavory - were plotting my demise.

Obviously an assassination attempt could have long-term effects, not only on the palace, but on my entire kingdom and beyond – this is how world wars get started, after all – so the One decided it would be a wise precaution to take me to a secure bunker until the threat had passed. 

The bunker also happened to be where the One works, which I must say was surprisingly . . . and perhaps suspiciously . . . convenient. But, I had my own blanket to sleep on, my own food and water, and my own litter box. AND, I got petted and brushed all day by multiple worshipers without having to share the attention with any stupid siblings or livestock.

I was, of course, concerned about the assassination attempt, so I judiciously remained in my blanket fort all day. But that was okay. It meant worshipers had to kneel to address me, which is exactly as it should always be.

My assassin-free blanket fort

The most horrifying video on the Internet

No.

Just . . . NO.

It's this sort of thing that leads livestock to think it's okay to just live in palaces alongside royalty.

Unacceptable.

Something is definitely up.

The One is behaving in an unusual manner. Generally, when she disrupts the routine something bad happens.

This morning, she got ready and left the house just like usual, but she did it an hour earlier than usual. You know what happens when the One gets up and leaves the house early? She leaves and doesn't come back for months! [Editor's Note: I have never gone on a vacation that lasted for months.]

So, we were all on high alert throughout the getting-ready routine . . . but no suitcase ever appeared. Nobody had any idea what was going on.

We don't know when she'll be back, but she didn't put out the self-feeder, so it better be soon.

I have concluded that the One either left for one of her "vacations," with a secretly packed suitcase, or she has a brain tumor.

I quite clearly told the One that she is not allowed to leave the palace again for a year. If she has gone on a THIRD vacation in two months, I will be cross. And you do not want that; trust me.

If she has a brain tumor, I . . . well, I'll still be cross – she IS the one who feeds and brushes me, and she does occasionally type my blog for me.

I remember when Joan – the only minion I ever had that was worth anything – had a brain tumor.

I will never have a better minion. 

If the One does have a brain tumor, and she expects me to feed her from a spoon or hold her close to me when she's sleeping, she can rethink that right now.

I guess I could order Fairbanks to put her out of her misery, if it became absolutely necessary. But not if it becomes necessary at naptime.

Worst criminal investigation ever.

Yesterday while the One was at work. Clara the cow sat on me and nobody did anything about it.

Photographic evidence unavailable.
Because I don't have my own phone.

I informed the One as soon as she walked in the door, expecting my report would be met with wrath in Clara's general direction – or at least an uninterrupted period of brushing while Clara was locked in the garage. Instead she investigated my accusations like she'd been watching too many procedural crime dramas on TV.

Her report to the Blonde One following her investigation went as follows:

The One Who Types: I wasn't home when the incident occurred, and the eye-witness accounts are a little hard to reconcile against each other.

Seriously?? Reconcile against each other? Who talks like that? Nobody. That's who.

The Blonde One: Huh.

TOWT: Nick says Clara was with him all afternoon, so she has an alibi.

Of COURSE Nick gave Clara an alibi. She's his best friend! Any good investigator knows not to ask the best friend where the suspect was when the crime occurred. Best friends always lie. And besides, Nick was napping nearby, so the fact that he was with Clara doesn't absolve her of guilt.

TOWT: Fairbanks says Clara also tried to sit on him, but he got up and left the room, which solved the problem.

So, now Fairbanks is victim blaming me?? Like, if I don't want to be sat on in my own palace, I should have to leave my comfortable spot and sleep elsewhere? Not cool, Fairbanks. You're on my list now.

TOWT: Katherine says she doesn't remember what happened. While she was saying it, though, she winked and meaningfully glanced at the treats, not-so-subtly indicating that her memory might be jogged with an appropriate greasing of her paw. It's unlikely that her testimony would be in Nora's favor, though.

Like there was even any point in asking Katherine. She's useless. I hate her.

Why would anyone adopt this
hideous creature?

TOWT: Clara said she has sat on Nora numerous times in the past, and Nora didn't object, so she was within her rights.

That's not a defense. She just admitted she sat on me!

TBO: Stop right there. I've met Clara, and I know all she EVER says is "moo."

Best answer ever.



Clara still didn't get punished, though.

Dear Cat Sitter . . .

It appears that the One mistakenly thinks she has been granted leave to visit a kingdom called "Mexico."

Obviously, there is no way she'd be given permission to abandon her queen, especially so soon after she disappeared to "Atlanta" for "DragonCon" and was gone for months [Editor's Note: It was four days]. I have forbidden any leaving of any palaces for the next year as punishment for that bit of insubordination. She's grounded. That's all I have to say on the subject.

However, if a year should pass and she should manage to avoid adding any time to her sentence for poor behavior, I have put together this guide to providing proper care for myself and my stupid brother Nick.

A portrait of Queen Nora and Prince Nick

I assume the One will expect you to care for Fairbanks, Clara, and Katherine as well. Fairbanks is useful, so you may care for him in any way you wish, but I would be willing to pay handsomely if you could, maybe, just forget to feed the cow and the other one. It would be perfectly understandable if something like that slipped your mind. Especially if they were to end up locked in a bathroom or stuffed into a box before you showed up.

Official Cat-Sitter Instructions

Nick and I eat squishy food every day. Fairbanks can have squishy food, too. Clara is a cow, so put her outside and tell her to eat some grass. If we're lucky, she'll wander off and forget to come back. There's no need to feed Katherine. She is old and sickly and we're just waiting for her to die of natural causes . . . (shut up, Nick - starvation is a natural cause!).

Nobody is allowed to sit on my counter-blanket but me.

Some people don't follow directions well at all.

Never pet Clara the Cow. Petting her only encourages her to stay. I am certain that if everyone just stopped petting her, she'd wander off and forget where she lives.

Still on my blanket. 

Also, I drink a lot of water, so make sure all the water bowls in the house are filled at all times. Then fill a regular glass with water and set it on a table or counter where I can drink out of it. I don't drink out of peasant bowls, but I do expect them to be full. Just in case. You might have to come over three or four times a day to see to this requirement. I would text you to remind you, but the One won't let me have my own cell phone.

You see what I have to put up with??

Finally, Nick is a big weenie, so you might not see much of him. But if you do, you should definitely pet his face because he really likes that, and he won't speak up for himself, so I have to do it.

Feel free to walk all over Nick.
Everyone else does.

Oh. And I would like to be brushed every three hours. Around the clock, naturally.

Those are your instructions. IF I ever let the One leave town again. I may not.

I will still allow you to come over and brush me every three hours, however.

You're welcome.

When Nicks Cry: A Tale of Immeasurable Disappointment

A spectacular moment of triumph was ripped from my grasp this morning. I may never forgive my stupid brother Nick for interfering in what should have been the best day of my life (besides the moment Nick was deemed unworthy of the crown due to his tail misplacement and I was coronated in his place).

Fairbanks FINALLY agreed to execute Katherine. Whether his execution docket was so full that he just got around to her, or he's been slacking all this time, I can't say. I mean, who really knows where he disappears to when he's outside and nowhere to be found for hours? Perhaps he has been diligently carrying out my orders of execution all this time, and he's just been being humble when I've asked him where he's been, and he's said, "around."

Anyway, it was Katherine's time. Fairbanks lured her into the bathroom with a promise of extra squishy food, knowing the One would be closing the door during her shower, thus preventing Kat's escape.

Once the One was in the shower, Fairbanks attacked. An epic battle ensued (who knew Katherine was such a scrappy little thing?) with snarling and hissing and fur and toilet paper flying.

The aftermath

I listened gleefully for the sound of Katherine's lifeless body falling to the floor.

Instead, the sound I heard was Nick crying. I don't know if you have ever heard Nick cry, but it is a horrible, pitiful sound that echos throughout the palace and sets the teeth of all who hear it on edge.

Apparently, Nick was (in his words) "afraid someone was going to get hurt."

"Of COURSE someone is going to be hurt, stupid," I said, "that's what happens when someone is executed!"

Nick continued to howl, and Fairbanks opened the door to find out what he was so upset about. (Fairbanks either has a door-opening superpower he failed to disclose on his application for headsman, or the One didn't make sure the latch was true when she shut the door.)

So, the execution was put on hold while Fairbanks discussed the concept of "inside voice" with Nick and Katherine ripped off pieces of toilet paper and ate them. Because Katherine will eat anything.

Still alive.

I hate her.

If Nick weren't my brother, I'd have killed him myself, even if it IS unbecoming for a queen to soil her paws with manual labor. I think maybe his brains were in his tail.

What I learned from watching The Walking Dead

The One says I have to say SPOILER ALERT before I can start writing my blog. Did she warn me that she was going to spoil my life by allowing Katherine to live in the palace? She did not.

One of my favorite shows is The Walking Dead because, following the zombie apocalypse, all the cats realized how foolish they'd been to ignore their queen for so long, but when they begged her to let them enjoy the safety of the palace, she laughed at them all and said, "no!" [Editor's note: This does not constitute a spoiler, since it did not actually happen on The Walking Dead.] Also, zombies ate a cow [Editor's note: Spoiler alert in 3 - 2 - 1].

There weren't any pictures of the cow, but here's
a picture of what happened afterwards, which
was almost as good because Dale was a little bitch.

Another thing I loved about The Walking Dead was the nice group of men Daryl joined up with for a while who lived by a well conceived code. If any of these men saw something he wanted, all he had to do was yell "CLAIMED" and he got to keep it. If I lived in the post-zombie-apocalypse world, I would have my minions run around and claim everything for me.

CLAIMED!

Here is the latest thing I claimed.

It's a kitchen cabinet. I get to sit in it anytime the One removes the cat food container. I explained to her that, because I claimed the cabinet, she has to take the food container out whenever I tell her to and let me sit in there, but she doesn't quite seem to grasp the concept. Which is stupid because she watched The Walking Dead with me, so she knows about the rule.

Fat Bird has been vanquished. No thanks to any of you.

Fat Bird has been terrorizing the palace all week. Every day, she's been out on the deck, hopping around and harassing us with her feathery presence.

As you can see, I am enduring the torture
far more gracefully than the two idiots behind me.

Yesterday, Fairbanks finally agreed to confront her, and she flew away the moment she saw him. Today, there is no sign of her. I believe she has finally learned that messing with the queen is a dangerous game.

Who is this cat and why is he receiving exclusive royal perks?

Take a look at this.



Got it?

Now, my question.

IS THAT ME???

Answer: No. No it is NOT me. It is some other cat who is NOT the queen.

Another question: Why is that cat – the one who is NOT the queen – receiving extra brushing when I am not?

Can't answer that one, can you? Because someone has failed in her duties as the One Who Brushes.

I am unhappy.

Does this look like a happy face to you?
No. Because I am UN happy.

Someone better fix this.

And by fix, I mean have that cat executed and see to it that my extra brushing begin immediately!

At least it isn't Katherine.

The queen has spoken.

Return of Fat Bird: The Plot Thickens

Yesterday, I saw no sign of Fat Bird and assumed she had been shot out of the sky by an anti-nuisance missile. This morning, however, I came downstairs to discover that she had not only returned to her spot on the deck, but Clara was talking to her!

"What are they talking about?" you ask.
"Exactly," say I.

Clara was chattering away, as if sharing vital secrets regarding palace dwellers with strangers was a completely normal thing to do.

I told her to stop it at once. She looked cagey and claimed Fat Bird was trying to sell her some carb-free squishy food that had been “found” in a nearby warehouse. Like anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that. She was obviously lying to cover her tracks. She’s up to something; I’m sure of it.

I ordered Fairbanks to keep an eye on the two of them while I took my after-breakfast nap, but who knows if he’ll actually do it? He’s become extremely lazy of late.

A New Threat: The Arrival of Fat Bird

The rodent rebels have been quiet for some time now. Fairbanks still patrols for spies daily, and he reports that many of the rabbits he originally had on his watch list have either moved to camps far from the palace or grown into adult rabbits, which, he says, all look the same.

Yesterday, however, a new threat appeared. The whispers began mid-afternoon – someone was on the deck. I, of course, assumed it was Katherine, who goes out to find leaves to add to her collection, but no. Katherine was inside with Clara (who was not executed for the water-wake-up incident, despite my insistence that taking swift and decisive action would send a valuable message to the others), staring at the newcomer through the window.

My two least favorite minions discovered the
interloper. Coincidence? I think not.

The interloper was a fat brown bird. Clearly up to no good, she sat on the deck all afternoon and into the evening, fluffing her feathers and eyeing us through the window with beady, suspicious eyes.

Fat Bird

Fairbanks, who is supposed to be in charge of palace security, said he’d never seen her before, but he wasn’t interested in engaging unless she posed a more obvious threat. Like her very presence on my deck wasn’t threatening enough?? I’m seriously considering demoting Fairbanks. Or having him beheaded. He is becoming decidedly useless as he ages.

Useless

My stupid brother Nick was oblivious. Even when the One tried to point out the fat bird to him, he thought she was trying to pet him and just had really bad depth perception, so he helped her out by putting his head in her outstretched hand. He really is stupid.

Nick! Look behind you! Fat Bird is RIGHT THERE!!!

Here are some possible reasons for the fat bird’s presence on the palace premises:

1. Fat Bird is a spy for the rodent rebels and is gathering intel by pretending to be an innocent bird.

2. Fat Bird is a decoy for the rodent rebels, hoping to keep our attention on the deck in back of the palace while the rodents move in and lay siege to the front door.

3. Fat Bird is a French expatriate hiding from . . . the French.

4. Fat Bird is a diet guru who heard my complaints about Clara’s girth and has come to perform infomercials touting low-fat cow chow.

If it is any of the first three, I shall see to it that the fat bird comes to a swift and painful end. If it’s the fourth, the fat bird is obviously not an expert on losing weight (look at her!) and, so, hardly a fit spokesfowl for a diet product. A swift and painful end is probably the best course regardless.

The Water-Wake-Up Incident

I was sure Clara was going to be steaked this morning, but so far her only punishment has been having her name loudly shrieked. Which, frankly, is the lamest punishment ever invented. I mean, it’s never happened to me, but I seriously doubt that, if it were, it would have any impact whatsoever.

After Clara successfully got the One to get out of bed on Saturday by spilling a water glass on her head, she has attempted this maneuver several more times. 

Each time (prior to this morning), the One heard her scooting the glass across the headboard and put her hand up to stop the imminent shower before it happened. Clara assumed the hand was there to rub her cow-face and forgot about the water glass, so nothing exciting happened at all.

Look at her trying to look all innocent.
She is not innocent. She's a menace.
A bovine menace.

But this morning at about 5:30, the One must have been in a deep sleep because Clara managed to push the water glass all the way across the headboard and tip it over. Cold water cascaded across the pillows, the bed, and the One’s head and body. Fortunately, I was sleeping at the end of the bed; if any of that water had reached me, I would have sliced Clara’s throat open with my razor-sharp claws . . . or at least punched her in the face.

I have never seen the One move that fast. Ever. 

This was when the shriek occurred. 

Nick was excited because he thought she was going to get up and take all the sheets and blankets off the bed and then put new ones on – he loves helping her make the bed – but instead she just scooted over to the very edge of the mattress and tried to go back to sleep.

It didn’t work. The alarm went off soon after, and she got up and got ready to go to the job that she claims is important, even though I’ve never seen her smile when talking about it. Not once.

Fortunately, I did not have to get up and get ready to go anywhere, because I am royal.

Perhaps she will execute Clara when she gets back to the palace tonight. A queen can dream.

Clara still can't have half my food.

This morning, the One did not get up and pay attention to me at her usual time. Something about a "Saturday," which is apparently a euphemism for "day Nora doesn't get fed at her usual time." Not that this was the first Saturday we've encountered. It happens routinely. But a queen is only born with so much patience, and mine has run out.

This is what it looks like when a queen dies
of boredom. Or starvation. I haven't decided which.

Fortunately, I have several minions at my disposal. Plus Katherine, but she's not useful in any way. I announced that I would give half my squishy food to anyone (other than Katherine, obviously) who convinced the One to get up.

I hate Katherine.

Usually, when faced with a challenge, Fairbanks is ready to jump up and pee on something, which pretty much guarantees action on the part of the One. But he just opened one eye and muttered something about waking him when it was time to go outside and patrol his territory (he was clearly half asleep or he would have noticed his error - there is no territory that belongs to him; duh). It didn't seem wise to bother him again; he's ferocious when he wants to be.

Do not disturb.

To my surprise, Clara the Cow took action! Apparently she believed me when I offered half my squishy food to the victor (I told you she's stupid)!

Clara summarily jumped onto the headboard of the bed and knocked the One's half-full water glass onto the bed with her front paw! [Editor's note: True story.] It was magnificent! The One got out of bed immediately. I had no idea Clara had it in her.

It seems Clara may be more of an ally than I thought.

Then again . . . I've heard there's a cow disease that's highly contagious. I better keep my distance.

Steer clear - could be catching.

Outbursts from foreigners disturb sleep in the palace

A strange cat came to the door last night, yelled "Death to the revolutionaries!" and wandered off again.

I can only assume he was referring to the rodents, who stage uprisings occasionally when they forget what formidable foes Fairbanks and my stupid brother Nick can be. Perhaps he is aware of an upcoming plot on their part. Or perhaps he is simply a loyal subject who wished to gain my favor.

He was a striped cat. It is also possible he was a girl. I couldn't tell. I told the One to take a picture of him, but she said it was too dark outside. Also, she said it was too cold. I said if it was dark and cold out there, perhaps we should invite the visitor in for a nice treat or a nap, but she said he probably already has a home, and besides Fairbanks wouldn't approve.

As if Fairbanks's opinion is somehow more important than mine.

For the record, Fairbanks insists that what the strange cat actually yelled was, "Your territory has been breached!" He became quite agitated and may have peed on something - I can't be sure.

Clara thought the strange cat yelled, "Let's all go out for pancakes," which is just stupid. Everyone knows cows don't eat pancakes.

Nick told me later that he thought the strange cat yelled, "When barn swallows unite, the marbles will be upon us!" which doesn't even make any sense. Thank goodness he kept that to himself. People already look at him funny because . . . well, you know . . . the tail . . .

And I honestly don't care what Katherine thought he said because I hate Katherine.

If I am able to find out more about either the strange cat or a possible rodent uprising, I shall inform you immediately.

The Queen has spoken

Katherine ate my food!

The One is about to learn what happens to those who defy me.

This morning, I was lying in bed looking forward to enjoying a lovely dish of room-temperature squishy food and considering opening a window while the One's at work and pushing Clara the Cow out of it.

The One distributes the squishy food to the others before she brings me mine because I am special. And because Katherine shoves her head into her dish before the food has even landed. 

I hate Katherine.

Anyway, the One brought my dish of food up to my bedroom and said to me, "Nora, you can't eat on the bed. Where do you want to eat?" [Editor's Note: This is true.]

"Where do I want to eat?" Really?
How about right where I AM, stupid.
Why do you think I'm sitting here like this?

Obviously, the One suffered some kind of brain damage in her sleep last night. I patiently informed her that, as her sovereign, I am, in fact, entitled to eat anywhere I choose.

Again, the One told me I couldn't eat on the bed. And, since her words were not appalling enough already, she proceeded to wave my dish of food near my face and then set it on the floor next to the bed. Have you ever had a servant wave a dish of food near your face and then set it out of reach? Demeaning? I should say so!

That's right. This is what outrage looks like.

Now, I don't have to tell you (or maybe I do – for all I know, you're as stupid as Clara), the floor is where the others eat. 

And my nemesis, Katherine, is one of the others.

I did my best to control my temper (I got my distemper shot recently, even though I didn't need one, as I have been the picture of decorum all my life due to my royal heritage) and rolled over on my back, the better to demonstrate my fearsome claws. Also, sometimes when I look particularly adorable, the One does what I want without argument.

The One did not do what I wanted without argument. She didn't even do what I wanted. She argued!

"Nora, I'm not going to feed you on the bed. If you want to eat, your food's down here." She pointed to my dish, sitting there, mocking me, on the floor.

At this point, I had no choice but to stand up and announce with all the authority I could muster, "You will feed me on the bed or there will be painful consequences. Possibly a beheading. And I will definitely push Clara the Cow out the window while you're at work."

And . . . this is the worst part. Okay. Not the worst part – that part is coming – but it was bad. Really really bad. The One said to me (this is so horrible, I don't even know if I can repeat it), "Nora if you stay on the bed, Katherine's going to eat your food."

She actually SAID that to me! That brain damage I mentioned? It's confirmed. Why would ANYONE say something so horrible? And to ME! She should be thankful she's ALLOWED to feed me! And here she is casually suggesting that the bane of my existence might be allowed to eat my food just because I stood my ground and demanded to be treated in a manner suitable to my station in life?

Well, let me tell you, I responded in the only way I possibly could. I lay back down with my back to her and refused to speak.

This move was intended to guilt the One into finally doing what she was supposed to do in the first place – feed me on the bed. But did she do that? She did not. And you know what happened? 

KATHERINE ATE MY FOOD!!!!!!!

I hope the One is prepared for the devastation and destruction that's about to rain down upon her life. When I'm finished with her, she'll be BEGGING to feed me on the bed. You just wait.

Also, I've almost figured out how to open the window. After Clara tumbles to her death, Katherine's next. The One wants to play this game? She has no idea who she's dealing with.