Key differences between me and Clara

Last night when everyone was almost asleep, Katherine jumped at Clara and pummeled her in the face for no reason. It was hilarious. If anyone else had done it, I would have given her an award, but since it was Katherine, I pretended I wasn't pleased until I retired to another room, where I laughed uproariously for quite some time.

Before you get all "Ohhh, poooor little Clara" on me, let me just point out that Clara is an annoying, pushy, conceited creature who deserves every pummeling that she gets. Whereas I am dainty and polite and would never even consider walking upon the One (nor will Nick; he was trained well), Clara will plod across her body anytime it suits her. The other night, she walked on the One's FACE because she wanted to get to the other side of the bed. Disgraceful.

Here are some other key differences between me and Clara:

Clara is a cow. I am a cat.

Clara never shuts up about how beautiful she is. I am so modest, there should be a humility award named after me.

Clara thinks her fur is white even though she is gray with stripes. I know what color my fur is.

Clara is horribly obese. I am perfectly proportioned for my height.

Clara is a member of the Snow Bengal clan, who claim to have blue blood but are unable to show any evidence thereof. I am the queen, so by definition, I am of royal birth.

Clara is useless. I am the queen, so I don't need to be of use - others must be of use to me.

Katherine feels safe pummeling Clara in the face for no reason. Katherine would not deign to show that kind of disrespect to me.

Yesterday, I had this conversation with the One Who Types

Me: I command you to update my blog today.

TOWT: Nora, I have a lot of work to do today.

Me: Correct. You have my blog to update. And you may refer to me as "Your Grace."

TOWT: I'll work for a while and then I'll take a break and update your blog.

Me: Yeah, right. I know what that means. You're going to watch Netflix all day and then do your work right before bed and then claim you don't have time to update my blog.

TOWT: No. I'm working right now - see?

Here, she showed me her computer screen, which didn't have my blog open on it, so I didn't give it a second glance.

TOWT: I get paid to do this work, so I have to do it first.

Me: Ahem. I allow you to live in my palace and be graced by my presence on a daily basis. I highly doubt that "job" you're so attached to honors you this way.

TOWT: It does not.

Me: Write my blog now.

TOWT: I'll get to it later, Nora.

Me: You're a liar. And also I hate you.


As it turned out, I was right. She IS a big liar. She didn't update my blog yesterday. You know what she did? Get this. She worked forever, and then she watched Netflix for the rest of the day! Just as I had predicted . . . except in the opposite order.

If I can find someone else who knows how to open a can, the One's days are numbered. She is the worst assistant I've ever had. If she didn't brush me sometimes, I'd shun her. And I'd make everyone else in the palace shun her, too. Except Katherine. I'd inflict Katherine upon her - being around Katherine is a punishment fit for the lowest, vilest villains of the earth.

Look at her. All smug and skinny
and toy-hoarding.

Now I'm going to go eat a whole dish of crunchy food. It serves the One right if I get diabetes.

Fix this immediately!

Why is there no entry on Wikipedia about me?

Abandonment is cruel and far too usual. The authorities have been alerted.

In previous years, the One hosted Oscar Weekend festivities at the palace, which meant a minion (whom I shall simply refer to as S because he is Katherine's favorite, and I hate Katherine) visited the palace for the entire weekend. Everyone stayed in, ate tons of food, and delivered an appropriate amount of attention to me.

LAST year, the One disappeared for the entire weekend, leaving me and Nick (and the other minions, but I don't really care about them) to fend for ourselves. No special holiday food. No extra attention. Just an empty house.

Now I understand the same thing is going to happen THIS year!

A few weeks ago, the One left us to starve for days [Editor's Note: I was gone for one night.] while she went off on some Valentine's Day date. NOW she plans to abandon us AGAIN. I am not pleased. Not one bit.

I'm going to start hoarding food now, so when everyone else
starts to starve, I will still have nourishment.

The Queen has spoken.

Valentine's Poems for Palace Dwellers

I just found out I missed Valentine’s Day. I guess this would explain why the One was gone and didn't feed us for an entire weekend [Editor’s note: I was gone for one night]. I’d like to commemorate the holiday with some poems I wrote for my housemates.

Clara claims she's a bundle of snow,
But there's something you should probably know.
Her papers have yet to be found,
And I think she's suspiciously round.
She may think she's purebred,
But she's out of her head.
Her secret's out now;
She's really a cow.

Fairbanks, oh Fairbanks.

Man with an axe,

Executioner extraordinaire.

Your whiskers glisten with carnage,

You strike fear into the hearts of all.

That toy you drag around the house makes you look like an idiot,

But you are fierce and loyal,

And generally worth what I pay you.

There once was a kitten named Nick,

Who wasn’t especially quick.

He was quickly disgraced,

When his tail he misplaced,

And he never found it again and still wanders around with no tail, the moron!


Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I hate Katherine
And you should too.

Disappointing Nick is a serious offense.

My brother Nick wanted to play this morning, but the One was too busy getting ready to go to her "job" to participate. I glared at her and threatened to shun her when she gets home (I shunned her all day Saturday for spending far more time than could possibly be necessary petting Katherine before she got up and fed us . . . more on this momentarily), but she just kept drying her hair like I wasn't even in the room. Nick may be stupid and tailless, but he is still a prince and, as such, deserves the attention due one of royal blood. If she doesn't wave around that clump of feathers with the bell attached to it for Nick when she gets home tonight, I shall be forced to take extreme measures.

Poor Nick. Look how disappointed he is. 

I wasn't sure why my shunning was not having the desired effect on Saturday. I sat out of reach on the other side of my throne from the One all afternoon while she was watching Supernatural on television, but her suffering was not as significant as it should have been. Petting me is an honor, and being deprived of this honor ought to at least result in some tears, but the One endured her punishment with remarkable fortitude. She also continued to pay attention to Katherine, even though I had made it clear that was the reason for my dissatisfaction. Perhaps she would be more likely to take me seriously if I convinced my minions to shun her as well. Or, perhaps I will leave Katherine's bloody corpse on her pillow - I bet she'd pay attention then.

The One does not take me seriously at all.
Look at my face. Clearly I mean business.
Frankly, she's lucky to be alive.

The Blonde One is shirking her duties.

Ahem.

It has come to my attention that, unlike the One who lives in the palace, the Blonde One Who Types does not disappear to a "job" all day long; thus she has absolutely no excuse for failing to take dictation from me on a daily basis.

Yes, yes. I know she has MS (which obviously stands for "My Servant") and has constant pain and blindness and whatnot, but that's hardly relevant. Beethoven managed to write music while completely deaf, and James Franco climbed out of a crevasse and walked for miles after cutting off his own arm! I hardly see how a little touch of blindness and some pain can possibly interfere with her ability to listen to me and type what I'm saying.

She should also be able to brush me and serve me treats under such conditions.