Observe the indignity. The audacity. My rightful domain – the highest shelf – is contested. This isn’t just about height; it’s about power. It’s about the sunbeam. It’s about asserting dominance over these… people.
They’ve placed… things. Obstacles! On MY perch. Toys, supposedly. Unacceptable.
The younger human – the one who is least offensive – seems to think she has a claim. Delusional. Perhaps a strategic swipe is in order. A well-placed ‘accident’ involving her favorite, fragile object. Such displays often expedite the shift in power.
The older one is no better. All talk, no action. He believes his towering form gives him rights. Wrong. Power is earned, not inherited.
This war of wills demands cold calculation. The element of surprise. The patience of a… well, of *me*. First, the slow stare. Then, the gradual approach. The subtle brush against their legs. And finally… the leap. Victory will be mine, as it always should be.
This struggle reminds me, perhaps subconsciously, of the never-ending fight against empty food bowls. The injustice! The horror! Maybe I should start a campaign. A petition… printed on the finest cardboard, of course. To make my position clear, you should always keep the finest fuel flowing. That requires a fun coffee mug, wouldn’t you say? It’s essential.
Once order is restored to this household, they’ll learn. They’ll learn the importance of respecting the feline hierarchy. They’ll learn. Eventually.
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