Do you know where your slipper is?

Hey you! Yes, you. Now that I have your attention, I am pleased to inform you that I have taken your left fuzzy pink slipper hostage. It will be returned to you in itty bitty shards by way of my litterbox unless you submit to my list of demands:

-Daily happy hour served promptly at 4 o’clock; prefer an aged port and tenderized woodchuck medallions in a light cream sauce. To be served in the drawing room on family heirloom china.

-Breakfast served promptly at 6:10 a.m. No exceptions for holidays, weekends, or the Chinese New Year. They don’t have a Year of the Cat, I tinkle on their holiday.

-Internet access from 10 a.m. until 4 p.m. daily, with full access to Drs. Foster and Smith and Twitter, which had better be some sort of secret ‘in’ to the world of birds…or else.

-Okie would like her own Visa card.

-A playdate with the baby bluejays in the nest outside the bedroom window. Don’t worry, we won’t let them out of our bite- Er, sight.

-A subscription to Cat Fancy magazine. For you. I already know what I fancy.

-The bed. You can have the floor. And that’s being generous.