When I was 6 months old, I got my first slaves. I was tired of looking for food so I thought that I could devote more time to my favourite hobby (sleeping) if my slaves found some food for me. I waited for a very long time until a rainy day, so that I could make them feel more pity, and I chose my objective. As I expected, they couldn’t leave me there and they took me home with them. My plan was successful. Purrrrfect. As their love for me grew, so did my hatred for everything around me
Sometimes I think highly of my slaves, especially of my adoptive father. When he is not in the room, I go with my adoptive mother and then I bite her legs to make her know that he is mine. They say that they’re going to take me to a feline psychologist… They won’t dare so…
I like to get my hair all over their clothes so they don’t forget about me. I really do it all over the house and they often eat it, but anyway, they look healthy.
Nowadays I’m the founder of Valhalla Cats and I’m in charge of human resources management. I told them to produce a great cat game, something out of this world. Sometimes I go with them and I write some things when I’m on the keyboard to help them, I wonder why they work so slowly…
- Knocking out flies with my ultrasonic attack and then eating them.
- Playing with mice until they disappear under the sofa.
- Canned cat food.
- Nap time.
- Looking down on people in the street from my plant pot.
- Sleeping near the heater.
- Chasing the red point.
- Wearing my harness and taking my slaves for a walk.
- Warning everybody who rules over the other cats.
- Boxes, I love boxes.
- Running like a maniac at 3 am.