My Life as a Cat

My Life as a Cat
I am an orange cat, my name is Creamsicle. I almost got diabetes because my owner fed me too much, but that’s ok, I like eating. Don’t you like eating? I know you do, that’s exactly why I’m writing this letter, with my four paws. I’m very cute, everyone says so, I express myself by rubbing up against people. I love leaving fur against people’s black pants, so when people go to clubs, they look like a big furry bear. Or maybe so they will attract some female felines for me, that would be nice. I can’t seem to attract any female felines when I spray near the window, they don’t come running after me as I hope. I guess I’m not attractive. My brother, Essence, tells me I’m attractive, but you can’t believe him, because he’s got no brains. All he does is sit against the door with his back against the wall with his belly hanging out, like he’s drunk. I swear to you, he does that ALL day. I swear to God, my owner must give him booze. She never gives me any, I’m jealous. He’s so content, he acts like a friggin’ cat. He has this glazed over look, like he is in space. Why does he act like a cat? Maybe it is the booze. I don’t act like a cat. I try so hard to be a human, I play cards, I go on the computer, I race cars. I even brush my teeth. But my owner still won’t accept me. Essence just sits there. I remember the day she got us, I was just a kitten, and we were trapped, in jail. All these nice humans were warning us of all these horrible people that would take us away, and pretend to like us, and keep us captive, and that every chance we got, we must try to run away, run towards the door, run whenever there was light, run towards the light. And always, always go towards the food. Run towards the scent of food. And make sure you knock things over, always knock things over. They hate that. And walk in front of things, they especially hate that too.
But always act like you have something important on your mind, that especially delights your owners. You always want to keep them delighted. That keeps the food coming. Because if they aren’t delighted, a few meals might slip by, they might get depressed, because you know their happiness all depends on you right? Why else did they get us? They didn’t get us because they wanted a cat they got us because they have no friends! When I look out the window I see marvelous things that owners don’t even pay attention to. I see squirrels stealing picking people’s car doors to get food and hide it in their trees for the winter, I see kids talking to the birds (before they forget), I see plants dancing. Or maybe it was the catnip, but it’s a trip I tell you. I wonder what my special someone looks like, I wonder if she’s nice. I’ve been searching for her, looking out the window, with my nose pressed against it, just looking, looking, spraying, hoping. But she never comes. She never comes up against the window, to stare at me. I don’t know how we would date. I can never sneak outside long enough to date any cats, hump them, then leave. All the neighbor cats are so nice to me. At first they were hesitant to me, just like I am around those weird dogs my owner brings into her apartment, with her wide smile, expecting us to be pleased. I always arch my back, because that makes me look frggin’ cool and if I look cool he can’t hurt me.
Essence is sleeping right now, I think I’ll wake him up. Or maybe I’ll tell him a bedtime story, about a cat going to a park and seeing fairy cat’s there bringing them freedom and another planet with lots of cats on it. He would like that. He’s a pleasant cat, I love him very much. I know our owner loves us, despite her weirdness. I think I’ll go hop on her lap, because she looks very busy.